Classic Poem

Black Richard has a shaggy brow
His eyes show not a gleam of ruth —
Black Richard is a villain now
But once he was a bonny youth —

Black Richard in a weedy fen
Had built himself a lonely house
And there with ghosts of murder'd men
They hear him loud o' nights carouse —

Black Richard hath nor kith nor kin,
Black Richard never has a friend,
He is a midnight man of sin
Whose weary days would shriek to end —

Black Richard looks upon the sky
And oftentimes aloud he'll rave:
It were a merry thing to die
The ghosts speak kindly of the grave —

Black Richard has a field hard by
In which he sows his crops with care
And if you ask him he'll reply
— I'm famine — with a ghastly stare —

Black Richard is alone, alone,
No soul dares talk with him save one
A wheezy, feeble, weak old crone
Who shudders when she sees him gone —

Black Richard had a mother dear
A father and a sweetheart too;
They died in one dark starving year
And they will never live anew —

Black Richard has a shaggy brow
That darkens every glance of ruth —
But if he is a villain now
O once he was a bonny youth.