A BALLAD SHOWING HOW AN OLD WOMAN RODE DOUBLE, AND WHO RODE BEFORE HER. THE raven croak'd as she sate at her meal, "Now fetch me my children, and fetch them with speed," The old woman of Berkeley said, "The monk my son, and my daughter the nun, The monk her son, and her daughter the nun, And they have brought with pious thought The old woman shriek'd as they entered her door, 'Twas fearful her shrieks to hear, 'Now take the sacrament away For mercy, my children dear!" Her lip it trembled with agony, Away they sent the sacrament, The fit it left her weak, She look'd at her children with ghastly eyes And faintly struggled to speak. "All kind of sin I have rioted in ; "I have suck'd the breath of sleeping babes, I have 'nointed myself with infants' fat, "And the Devil will fetch me now in fire And I who have rifled the dead man's grave "Bless, I intreat, my winding sheet, And with holy water sprinkle my shroud, And sprinkle my coffin too. "And let me be chain'd in my coffin of stone, With iron bars, and with three chains "And bless the chains and sprinkle them, "And see that fifty choristers Beside the bier attend me, And day and night by the taper's light With holy hymns defend me. "Let the church bells all, both great and small, Be toll'd by night and day, To drive from thence the fiends who come To bear my body away. "And ever have the church door barr'd After the even song; And I beseech you, children dear, Let the bars and bolts be strong. "And let this be three days and nights Keep me so long from the fiendish throng, The old woman of Berkeley laid her down Short came her breath and the struggle of death They blest the old woman's winding-sheet With holy water they sprinkled her shroud, And they chain'd her in her coffin of stone, And in the church with three strong chains And they blest the chains and sprinkled them, And fifty sacred choristers Beside the bier attend her, Who, day and night, by the tapers' light, To see the priest and choristers It was a goodly sight, Each holding, as it were a staff, And the church bells all, both great and small, And they have barr'd the church door hard, And the first night the taper's light Burnt steadily and clear, Of angry fiends could hear; A hideous roar at the church door Like a long thunder peal, And the priests they pray'd and the choristers sung Loud toll'd the bell, the priests pray'd well, The monk her son, and her daughter the nun, The cock he crew, away they flew The second night the taper's light And every one saw his neighbour's face Like a dead man's face to view. And yells and cries without arise That the stoutest heart might shock, The monk and nun they told their beads As fast as they could tell, And aye as louder grew the noise The faster went the bell. Louder and louder the choristers sung The cock he crew, away they flew The third night, came and the tapers' flame And they burnt as though they had been dipt And the loud commotion, like the rushing of ocean, And strokes as of a battering ram The bellmen they for very fear The monk and nun forgot their beads, And the choristers' song that late was so strong For the church did rock as an earthquake shock And a sound was heard like the trumpet's blast The strong church door could bear no more, |