By the faint flicker of a dying candle, a pale hand reaches for a quill. She dips it in ink and sets the tip upon parchment...
Under Yon Old Oak
Under yon Old Oak,
Beneath the Moon,
By the pond wherein frogs do croak,
Yonder, two shades swoon:
Two red roses,
Thorn'd things so pallid and scarce,
Pecking away the night morose --
Tandaraday!
...A vibrant red e'er so sparse!
As I came along,
Beneath the Moon,
By the pond wherein frogs do croak,
Under yon Old Oak,
There, I greet'd:
"Hail, love, beloved," I greet'd;
"How many pecks shalt ye two share --"
Tandaraday!
..."Look; look! How swell'd thy lips fare!"
Ah; he had prepared
Nicely; nicely,
A rich bed of sightly, sightly
Flowers - hadn't spared:
Tulips and roses,
Tulips and roses 'long the way,
With which he well hoped to sway --
Tandaraday!
...A shame, what shalt come to pass!
I laid my long fangs,
Beneath the Moon,
Within the lord; his mistress soon,
What shalt ease their pangs?!
Two red roses,
Thorn'd things so pallid and scarce,
Now drain'd, now drain'd and exposed --
Tandaraday!
...A vibrant red e'er so sparse!