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The Black-bird/The Maid in Bedlam

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For other versions of this work, see The Maid in Bedlam.
4515326The Black-bird — The Maid in BedlamAnonymous

The Maid in Bedlam.

One morning very early,one morning in the spring,I heard a maid in Bedlam,who mournfully did sing:Her chains she rattl’d on her hands,while sweetly thus sung she,I love my love, because I knowmy love loves me.
Oh! cruel were his parents,who sent my love to sea;And cruel, cruel was the shipthat bore my love from me:Yet I love his parents, since they’re his,altho’ they’ve ruin’d me.  For I love my love, &c.
Oh! should it please the pitying pow’rsto call me to the sky, I'd claim a guardian angel's chargearound my love to fly,For to guard him from all dangers;How happy should I be!  For I love my love, &c.
I'll make a strawy garland,I'll make it wondrous fine;With rodes, lillies, daisies,I'll mix the eglantine;And I'll present it to my love,when he returns from sea.  For I love my love, &c.
O if I were a little bird,to build upon his breast!Or if I were a nightingale,to sing my love to rest;To gaze upon his lovely eyes,all my reward should be,  For I love my love, &c.
O if I were an eagle,  to soar into the sky!I’d gaze around, with piercing eyes,where I my love might spy:But ah! unhappy maiden,that love you ne’er shall see!  Yet I love my love, &c.
Whilst thus she sung, lamenting,her love was come on shore:He heard she was in Bedlam,then did he ask no more,But straight he flew to find her,while thus replied he,  I love my love, &c.
O Sir, do not affright meare you my love, or not?Yes, yes my dearest Molly!I fear’d I was forget;But now I’m to make amendsfor all your injury:And I love my love, because I’ve foundmy love loves me.

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