Yonder stands a cottage, All deserted and alone, Its paths are neglected, With grass overgrown; Go in and you will see Some dark stains on the floor,-- Alas! it is the blood Of fair Fannie Moore.
To Fannie, so blooming, Two lovers they came; One offered young Fannie His wealth and his name; But neither his money Nor pride could secure A place in the heart Of fair Fannie Moore.
The first was young Randell, So bold and so proud, Who to the fair Fannie His haughty head bowed; But his wealth and his house Both failed to allure The heart from the bosom Of fair Fannie Moore.
The next was young Henry, Of lowest degree. He won her fond love And enraptured was he; And then at the altar He quick did secure The hand with the heart Of the fair Fannie Moore.
As she was alone In her cottage one day, When business had called Her fond husband away, Young Randell, the haughty, Came in at the door And clasped in his arms The fair Fannie Moore.
"O Fannie, O Fannie, Reflect on your fate And accept of my offer Before it's too late; For one thing to-night I am bound to secure,-- 'Tis the love or the life Of the fair Fannie Moore."
"Spare me, Oh, spare me!" The young Fannie cries, While the tears swiftly flow From her beautiful eyes; "Oh, no!" cries young Randell, "Go home to your rest," And he buried his knife In her snowy white breast.
So Fannie, so blooming, In her bright beauty died; Young Randell, the haughty, Was taken and tried; At length he was hung On a tree at the door, For shedding the blood Of the fair Fannie Moore.
Young Henry, the shepherd, Distracted and wild, Did wander away From his own native isle. Till at length, claimed by death, He was brought to this shore And laid by the side Of the fair Fannie Moore.