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Mary Of The Wild Moor1 Traditional

16 Oct 1980 SPRINGTIME IN NEW YORK: THE BOOTLEG SERIES VOL. 16 / 1980-1985

rehearsal, Rundown Studios, Santa Monica CA - 16.oct.1980 'Twas on one cold an' wint'ry night When the winds blew across the wild moor For there Mary wandered alone with her child 'Til she came to her own father's door. "Oh why did I leave this fair spot Where once I was happy and free? For now i'm alone in this whole world to roam And nobody cares for me." "Oh father, take pity on me Come down and open the door For the child in my arms it will perish and die From the winds that blow 'cross the wild moor." But the old man was deaf to her cries Not a sound from her voice did he hear And the watchdog did howl and the village bells tolled And the wind blew across the wild moor. Oh how the old man must have felt When he came to the moor the next morn And he found Mary dead but the child still alive Still wrapped in her dead mother's arms. In grief the old man pined away And the child to its mother went soon And no one they say, has lived there 'til this day And the cottage to ruin has gone. But the villagers point out the spot Where the willows droop over the door Saying, "There Mary died, once the gay village bride From the winds that blow 'cross the wild moor."

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Mary From The Wild Moor2 Traditional

30 Nov 1980 RISE AGAIN (T-319) 3 Dec 1980 A MUSICAL RETROSPECTIVE (T-719) YOU DON'T KNOW ME (T-309)

Live, Seattle WA - 30.nov.1980 Live, Portland OR - 3.dec.1980 'Twas on one cold an' wint'ry night When the winds blew across the wild moor For there Mary wandered alone with her child 'Til she came to her own father's door. "Oh why did I leave this fair spot Where once I was happy and free? For now left to roam in this wild world alone And nobody cares about me." "Oh father, take pity on me Come down and open the door Or the child in my arms it will perish and die From the winds that blows 'cross the wild moor." But the old man was deaf to her cries Not a sound from her voice did he hear And the watchdog did howl and the [mission/village] bells tolled And the winds blew across the wild moor. Oh how the old man must have felt When he came to the door the next morn And he found Mary dead but the child still alive Still wrapped in her dead mother's arms. In anguish he tore his gray hair And the tears down his cheeks they did pour When he saw how that night she had perished and died From the winds that blew 'cross the wild moor. In grief the old man pined away And the child to its mother went soon And no one they say, has lived there 'til this day And the cottage to ruin has gone. But the villagers point out the spot Where the willows droop over the door Saying, "There Mary died, once the gay village bride From the winds that blow across the wild moor."