THE SONG OF LAURA FOSTER



A tragedy I now relate,

‘Tis of poor Laura Foster’s fate.

How by a fickle love she

Was hurried to eternity.



On Thursday morn at early dawn,

To meet her groom she hurried on.

When soon she thought a bride to be,

Which filled her heart with ecstacy.



Her youthful heart no sorrow knew, 

She fancied all mankind was true,

And thus she passed along

Humming at times a favorite song.



As eve’ declined toward the West

She met her groom and his wild quest,

In forest wild the three retreat, 

She looked for parson there to meet.



Soon night came on, with darkness drear, 

But while poor Laura felt no fear, 

She tho’t her lover kind and true,

Believed that he’d protect her too.



Confidingly upon his breast,

She leaned her head to take some rest,

But soon poor Laura felt a smart,

A deadly dagger pierced her heart.



No shrieks were heart by neighbors ‘round,

Who were in bed and sleeping sound,

None heard those shrieks so loud and shrill

Save those who did poor Laura kill.



This murder done they her conceal,

And vowed they’d never it reveal,

To dig the grave they now proceed

But in the dark they made no speed.



The dawn appeared the grave not done.

Back to their hiding place they run,

And they with a silence wait the night, 

To put poor Laura out of sight.



The grave was short and narrow too, 

But in it they poor Laura threw.

They covered her with leaves and clay 

The hastened home e’er break of day.