Meg Merrilies (Michael Gray)
- Editor: Michael Gray (submitted 2017-02-24). Score information: Letter, 11 pages, 246 kB Copyright: CPDL
- Edition notes: Third movement of "Posthumous Keats"
First published: 2013
Description: Third movement of "Posthumous Keats"
External websites: http://www.graymichael.com
Original text and translations
Old Meg she was a gipsy;
And lived upon the moors:
Her bed it was the brown heath turf,
And her house was out of doors.
Her apples were swart blackberries,
Her currants pods o' broom;
Her wine was the dew of the wild white rose
Her book a churchyard tomb.
Her brothers were the craggy hills,
Her sisters larches trees;
Alone with her great family
She lived as she did please.
No breakfast had she many a morn,
No dinner many a noon,
And 'stead of supper she would stare
Full hard against the moon.
But every morn of woodbine fresh
She made her garlanding,
And every night the dark glen yew
She wove, and she would sing.
Old Meg was brave as Margaret Queen,
And tall as Amazon;
An old red blanket cloak she wore,
A chip hat she had on.
God rest her aged bones somewhere;
She died full long agone!