Under the Iron Sky

All in the Morning Early, part 1

As I walked out alone one day
All in the merry month of May
I met an old man on my way,
All in the morning early.

His head was bald, his beard was grey,
His cheeks were like the mortal clay;
I asked him how he came that way,
All in the morning early.

I said, “Old man, what man are you?
What country do you belong unto?”
“My name is Death—have you not heard of me?
Kings and princes bow down you see
And you, fair maid, must come with me.”

I’ll give you gold and riches rare,
I’ll give you costly robes to wear,
I’ll give you all my earthly share,
If you’ll spare me a little while longer.”

Now Lady, leave your robes aside,
No longer glory in your pride.
No more in life you may abide
Now come along with me.”

And not long after this fair maid died;
“Write on my tomb,” the lady cried,
“Here lies a poor distressed maid,
Her spirits broken, her life betrayed.
Just in her bloom she was snatched away,
Her clothing now the cold earthen clay.”

As I walked out alone one day
All in the merry month of May
I met an old man on my way,
All in the morning early.

His head was bald, his beard was grey,
His cheeks were like the mortal clay;
I asked him how he came that way,
All in the morning early.

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