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112 AMERICAN BALLADS AND SONGS
On Friday morning she took sick, Her stubborn heart began to break "Alas, alas, my days are spent! Good lord, too late for to repent!"
She called her mother to her bed; Her eyes were rolling in her head. "When I am dead remember well Your wicked Polly screams in hell!
"The tears are lost you shed for me. My soul is lost I plainly see. The flowing wrath begins to roll, I am a lost, a ruined soul!"
She gnawed her tongue before she died, She rolled, she groaned, she cried, Saying, "Must I burn forevermore When thousand, thousand years are o'er?"
At length master death prevailed. Her face turned blue, her language failed. She closed her eyes and left this world. Poor Polly thought that hell was hers.
This almost broke her mother's heart To see her child to hell depart. "My Polly, 0 my Polly's dead! Her soul is gone, her spirit's fled!" |
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