Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 2.djvu/112

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The poor girl she had serv'd with them Some half-a-year, or more,When she was found hung up one dayStiff as a corpse and cold as clay Behind that stable door!
It is a very lonesome place, No hut or house is near;Should one meet a murderer there alone'Twere vain to scream, and the dying groan Would never reach mortal ear.
And there were strange reports about That the coroner never guest.So he decreed that she should lieWhere four roads meet in infamy, With a stake drove in her breast.
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