The Dying Highwayman's Song

The Dying Highwayman's Song

Let me sing you my song, gentle stranger
Let me tell you my tale, and tell it true
I'm dying this night, upon the cold clay
And I've only a while left to tell it to you

I used to go dashing alone in the night
I was a rider, a highwayman bold
I stole from those fattened by lives of excess
But now I am dying, my blood it grows cold

My blood it grows cold, no longer heated
By the pulse of my heart, and the love of a girl
The daughter of a man most most harsh and cruel
Who locked his daughter away from the world

He locked her away, her ardour to cool
Her lust for her life, her passion for me
There she stayed locked for all too many years
And I longed for her, and she longed for me

I climbed to her window from the streets below
And there she swore her heart to me
She swore her love, and I swore mine
And I pledged her I would set her free

I rode to her window one cold midnight
And called out her name, and cast her a rope
She came to the window, and cast down a rose
I saw my love, and she her last hope

She climbed to my arms, and mounted my steed
And away into the night we swiftly rode
Then came a shot from her father's house
And I fell from my horse, and lay in the road

My lover fled far, my horse riding fast
I bled in the street, as she fled the town
I called out her name, and she never turned
And so to the ground I cast her last rose

I cursed her, and the love that she bore
I cursed the way she left me to die
I cursed her father's bullet in my flesh
I cursed her fair skin, I cursed her blue eyes

I slumped to the pavement, my blood growing cold
My tears running over my wound, and they stung
My one last comfort in my time of death
Was, were I not shot, they would have me be hung

Now at last my tale is at an end, gentle stranger
I must ride my last to the gates of Hell
For I died in shame, in my lover's scorn
But tell my tale, and tell it well

Speak of me true, and speak of me well
But still no better than that which I am
That which I was, and will not be again
A lover, and a foolish highwayman