Stan Rogers Harris And The Mare
Harris and the Mare By: Stan Rodgers Harris, my old friend, good to see your face again More welcome, though, yon trap and that old mare For the wife is in a swoon, and I am all alone Harris, fetch thy mare and take us home The wife and I came o ut for a quiet glass of stout And a word or two with neighbors in the room But young Clary, he came in, as drunk and wild as sin And swore the wife would leave the place with him But the wife as quick as thought said, "No, I'll bloody not" Then struc k the brute a blow about the head He raised his ugly paw, and he lashed her on the jaw And she fell onto the floor like she were dead Now Harris, well you know, I've never struck an angry blow Nor would I keep a friend who raised his hand I was a con scie in the war, cryin' what the hell's this for? But I had to see his blood to be a man I grabbed him by his coat, spun him 'round and took his throat And beat his head upon the parlor door He dragged out an awful knife, and he roared "I'll have your life" And he stuck me and I fell onto the floor Now blood I was from neck to thigh, bloody murder in his eye As he shouted out "I'll finish you for sure" But as the knife came down, I lashed out from the ground And the knife was in his breast and he rolled o'er Now with the wife as cold as clay I carried her away No hand was raised to help us through the door And I've brought her half a mile, but I've had to rest a while And none of them I'll call a friend no more For when the knife came down, I was helpless on the ground No neighbor stayed his hand, I was alone By God, I was a man, but now I cannot stand Please, Harris, fetch thy mare, take us home Oh, Harris, fetch thy mare, and take us out of here In my nine and fifty years I've never known That to call myself a man, for my loved one I must stand Now Harris, fetch thy mare take us home
