Ballad of a Shamed One

She was just a young girl, not long in the world,
Who went strolling out into Spring.
Turning and stepping, spun fast and twirled,
She found herself dancing a fling.

Oh but that sweet girl, so young and so pure,
No mind for their traps, no mind for their lure.

She met a young man, they went for a ride,
His pony cart clopping along.
And down at the river, they stopped at the side
When of course it began to go wrong.

Oh but that sweet girl, so young and so pure,
No mind for their traps, no mind for their lure.

She turned and she ran when she saw in his eyes,
The desire he was failing to hide.
But there was nobody to hear her sharp cries,
No one her young lover to chide.

Oh but that sweet girl, so young and so pure,
No mind for their traps, no mind for their lure.

No matter her screams, her childhood he took,
And left her there under the leaves,
Where there she later could be mistook
For a drowned girl, or so they believed.

Oh but that sweet girl, so young and so pure,
No mind for their traps, no mind for their lure.

Later they found her alone in the wood,
And asked her where she was going.
She gave them her answer; they misunderstood,
For none of her teardrops were showing.

Oh but that sweet girl, so young and so pure,
No mind for their traps, no mind for their lure.

Night falling slowly and the young lass was gone,
And find her their men never could.
Till later that night, as they blundered on,
They made their way down to the wood.

Oh but that sweet girl, so young and so pure,
No mind for their traps, no mind for their lure.

There in the river her bright eyes they saw,
Her hair drifting free like the weed.
In its pale beauty, her hair had no flaw;
What more proof did those people need?

Oh but that sweet girl, so young and so pure,
No mind for their traps, no mind for their lure.

That she was shamed each eye there could see,
For her drowning had not been alone.
There on the rocks, so skinny and wee,
An infant did let out a groan.

Oh but that sweet girl, so young and so pure,
No mind for their traps, no mind for their lure.

And they took the child, left the mother asleep,
In her bitter and watery grave,
Where each day till now her family weep
For the daughter that they failed to save.

Oh but that sweet girl, so young and so pure,
No mind for their traps, no mind for their lure.
 
 

The End

81 comments about this poem Feed