Crazy Jane And The Bishop

 Bring me to the blasted oak
That I, midnight upon the stroke,
(All find safety in the tomb.
)
May call down curses on his head
Because of my dear Jack that's dead.

Coxcomb was the least he said:
The solid man and the coxcomb.


Nor was he Bishop when his ban
Banished Jack the Journeyman,
(All find safety in the tomb.
)
Nor so much as parish priest,
Yet he, an old book in his fist,
Cried that we lived like beast and beast:
The solid man and the coxcomb.


The Bishop has a skin, God knows,
Wrinkled like the foot of a goose,
(All find safety in the tomb.
)
Nor can he hide in holy black
The heron's hunch upon his back,
But a birch-tree stood my Jack:
The solid man and the coxcomb.


Jack had my virginity,
And bids me to the oak, for he
(all find safety in the tomb.
)
Wanders out into the night
And there is shelter under it,
But should that other come, I spit:
The solid man and the coxcomb.

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