Classic Poem

On her death bed lay Fan McCoy,
Her child was standing near;
She knew that she was dying fast
But her black eyes held no fear.
She said, “My boy, you're most a man,
Pay heed to what I say.
For you must take the clansman's oath
Before I pass away.

“The Hatfield's got your pappy, Jed,
They shot him in the back;
And ever since that cursed night
I've followed on their track.
I got the one that fired the shot,
A bullet through the heart;
The rest I'm leaving, Jed, to you,
And you must do your part.

“Don't ever stop or falter, Jed,
Until you get them all;
Just take your Pap's old rifle gun
That hangs there on the wall.
And count the notches on the stock,
They're Hatfields every one,
I cut the last two there myself,
On that old rifle gun.

“My eyes are growing dimmer, Jed,
I cannot see your face;
But my heart is easy, now I know
You'll take your rightful place.
Your Pappy swore to get them all,
Just try to do the same;
I'm leaving in your keeping, Jed,
Your Pappy's honored name.”

Now Judge and jury have a heart,
When trying this same lad;
Remember that he's staunch and true
To the oath of his own clan.
Judge not too harshly lawless deed,
Committed by this boy;
Just bear in mind the parting words
Of dying Fan McCoy.