Mary From The Wild Moore
Composer(s): Joseph W. Turner
Performer(s): Bob Dylan



It was on a cold and windy nite
When the wind blow across the wild moor
When Mary came wandering home with her child
Till she came to her own fathers door
Father dear father she cried
Come down and open the door 
For the child in my arms will perish and die 
From the winds that blow across the wild moor

Why did I leave this fair spot
Where once I was happy and free
I am now forced to roam without friends or a home
And no one to take pity on me 

But her father was deaf to her cries
Not a sound of her voice did he hear 
So the watchdog did howl, and the village bells tolled
And the wind blew.. 

Oh how the old man must've felt
When he came to the next morn
And he found Mary dead but the child still alive
Closely grasped in his dead mothers arms

As rage he tore his grey hair
And his tears down his cheeks they did pour
When he saw how that nite she had perished and died
From the wind that blew across the wild moor

In grief the old man pined away
And the child to its mother went soon
And no one they say how lived still
And the cottage to ruin has gone

But the villagers point out the spot
Where the willow pours over the door.. 
Saying there Mary did once a gay village find
From the wind that blew across the wild moor