It was on one cold winter night When the wind blew across the wild moonWhen Mary came wandering home with her child Till she came to her own father's doorFather, dear father, she cried Come down and open the doorOr the child in my arms will perish and die From the winds that blow across the wild moorBut her father was deaf to her cry Not a sound of a voice did he hearSo the watchdog did howl and the village bells tolledAnd the wind blew across the wild moor Oh, how the old man must have feltWhen he came to the door the next morn And he found Mary dead, but the child stillalive Closely grasping his dead mother's armIn grief the old man passed away And the child to its mother went soonAnd no one, they say, lives there to this day And the cottage to ruin has goneBut the villagers point out the spot Where the willows grew over the doorSaying there Mary died, once the gay village bride From the wind that blew across the wildmoor