 | Poems and Songs |  |
52
I Met with a Doleful Wight.
I
Oh, I met with a doleful wight,With his elbows on his knees;
His face was in mournful plight,
For his heart was ill at ease.
He sat on an old tree-root,
In a shady nook, alone;
He was tattered from head to foot,
And this was his weary moan,—
Oh, I married a shrew
For her gold so fine;
Now the gold is gone,
And the shrew is mine!
II
The man is a paltry knaveThat can coldly woo for pelf;
He's a mean and a heartless slave
Whose centre is all himself:
53
His life is a funeral knell
Of loveless nights and days;
I know the sad truth too well.
Oh, I married a shrew
For her gold so fine;
Now the gold is gone,
And the shrew is mine!
III
Oh, the treasures are dearly boughtThat canker the mind with care,
And the spirit is mean that's caught
In a cold and greedy snare:
But the jewel of heaven is love,
The light and the life of man;
The brightest ray from above,
That shines on his mortal span.
Oh, I married a shrew
For her gold so fine;
Now the gold is gone,
And the shrew is mine!
IV
Oh, I'm tired of this life of mine,For I wander without a friend;
And at every step I pine
To get to the journey's end.
54
Is the poorest exchange below;
And to live with a heart that's cold
Is the bitterest lot to know.
Oh, I married a shrew
For her gold so fine;
Now the gold is gone,
And the shrew is mine
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