Another variation, from Connie Dover's wonderful rendition of the song: Oh who is without That in anger they should Keep beating my bolted door I am Ned of the hill Long weary and chilled From long trudging Over marsh and moor My love fond and true What else could I do But shield you from wind and from weather When the shot falls like hail They us both shall assail And mayhap we will die together Through frost and through snow Tired and hunted I go In fear of both friend and of neighbour My horses run wild My acres untilled And all of it lost to my labour What grieves me far more Than the loss of my store Is there's noone would shield me from danger So my fate it must be To bid farewell to thee And to languish amid strangers
|