The Robber Bridegroom

(Talk between Bird and Girl) Turn back. Turn, young lady dear A murderer's house you enter here I was wooed and won little bird (I have watched them come bright girls Out of the rising sun, with curls) The stair is tall the cellar deep The wind coughs in the halls I never wish to sleep From the ceiling the sky falls It will press you and press you, dear. It is my desire to fear (What a child! she desires her fear) The house is whirling night, the guests Grains of dust from the northwest I do not come for rest There is no rest for the dead Ready for the couch of my groom In a long room beneath the dew Where the walls embrace and cling. I wear my wedding ring He will cut off your finger And the blood will linger Little bird!