(Joseph W. Turner)

from Songcatcher soundtrack



On a cold winter's night

As the winds blew across the wild moor

Poor Mary came wandering home with her child

'Til she came to her own father's door



Papa oh Papa she cried

Come down and open the door

Or the child in my arms

Will perish and die

From the winds that blow across the wild moor



But the old man was deaf to her cries

And not a sound of her voice did he hear

While the watchdog did howl

And the village bell tolled

The winds blew across the wild moor



Oh how the old man must have felt

When he came to the door the next morn'

And he found Mary dead

But the child yet alive

Clutched close to his dead mother's breast



Now the old man in grief pined away

And the babe to its mother went soon

And no one they say

Has lived there to this day

And the cottage is left to ruin



Now the villagers point out the place

Where the ivy grows over the door

Saying there Mary died

Once a fair village bride

From the winds that blew across the wild moor

From the winds that blew across the wild moor