Broadside ballad entitled 'Widow MacFarlane's Lamentation for Her Son'

Transcription

WIDOW    MACFARLANE'S

LAMENTATION

FOR    HER    SON.

On the Banks of Clyde I happened to wander,
In the month of August, when flowers was in bloom ;
On the beauties of nature my mind it did ponder,
I heard an aged female who was making sad moan ;
And this she exclaimed in accents of sorrow !
O come death and ease me, of misery and pain,
Berest of all comfort on this earth for ever ;
Since Hans Smith Macfarlane my son now is gone.

O tender I reared him though humble my station,
When death snatch'd his father from me away;
With care I watch'd o'er him with heartfelt reflection,
And hoped in my old age he would be a stay;
But all my fond hopes on this earth now is blighted,
My sunshine is clouded with dark despair,
O where can I wander now, from shame and sorrow?
My mind is o'er-clouded with misery and care.

For base cruel murder condemned to suffer,
O had he my son ! but ta'en counsel from me,
No violence to mankind he ever would offer,
Or by that been brought to die on a tree.
The cup of affliction is now flowing over,
O when will my sufferings be at an end ?
O heaven give ear to the cry of the widow,
And to my sad condition his mercy extend.

How oft did I wander along those banks with pleasure,
With him in my arms and row'd in my plaid,
With parental love I dreamed him a treasure,
When he lay on my knee, or walked by my side,
But those recollections only adds to my sorrow,
What since has occured was not dreamed by me,
With sad grief and anguish my mind is distracted,
At thought of my son having died on a tree

O why am I spared to see this awful morning ?
The Eleventh of August Eighteen-fifty three;
That my unfortunate son Hans Smith Macfarlane,
And poor Helen Blackwood did die on a tree
O where can I wander to breath out my sorrow?
O lonely I strae and to heaven make my moan,
But my gray silver hairs to the grave soon will follow,
Hans Smith Macfarlane my unfortunate son.

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