An Old Story

 (Retold in Rhyme)

They threw him in a prison cell;
He moaned upon his bed.

And when he crept from coils of hell:
"Last night you killed," they said.


"last night in drunken rage you slew
A being brave with breath;
A radiant soul, because of you
Lies dark in death.
"

"last night I killed," he moaned distraught,
"When I was wild with wine;
I slew, and I remember naught .
 .
 .

O Mother, Mother mine!

"To what unbridled rage may lead
You taught me at your knew.

Why did I not your warning heed .
 .
 .

And now - the gallows tree.


"O Mother, Mother, come to me,
For I am sore distrest,
And I would kneel beside your knee
And weep upon your breast.
 .
 .
 .
"

They stared at him; their lips were dumb,
Their eyes tear filled;
Then spoke the Priest: "She cannot come .
 .
 .

'Twas she you killed.
"

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