Rose

Here in our town she bloomed, a scarlet roseAmong the other girls, and all the menWho ever looked went crazy for her then,Like bees that haunt the place where honey grows.But when she left to dance in burlesque shows,As shifty as the snow across the trackOf deer, the rumours of her life blew back,Though what the wind that blew them no one knows.

And slowly to us boys and girls her caseBecame a legend of iniquity;So when her father died and Rose came backWe watched with awe and curiosityA thin, tall scare-crow dressed in faded blackWith tears that trickled down her withered face.