OUT in the wastes of the West countrie, Out where the white stars shine, Grim and silent as such men be, Rideth a man with a historyâ€” Anthony Considine. For the ways of men they are manifold As their differing views in life; Some sell themselves for the lust of gold, And some for the lust of strife: But this man counted the world well lost For the love of his neighbourâ€™s wife.
They fled together, as those must flee Whom all men hold in blame; Each to the other must all things be Who cross the gulf of iniquity And live in the land of shame.
But a light-oâ€™-love, if she sins with one, She sinneth with ninety-nine: The rule holds good since the world begunâ€” Since ever the streams began to run And the stars began to shine. The rule holds still, and he found it trueâ€” Anthony Considine.
A nobler spirit had turned in scorn From a love that was stained with mire; A weaker being might mourn and mourn For the loss of his Heartâ€™s Desire: But the anger of Anthony Considine Blazed up like a gaming fire
And she, with her new love, presently Came past with her eyes ashine; And Gad so willed it, and God knows why, She turned and laughed as they passed hire byâ€” Anthony Considine.
Her laughter stung as a whip might sting; And mad with his wounded pride He turned and sprang with a pantherâ€™s spring, And struck at his rivalâ€™s side: And only the woman, shuddering, Could tell how the dead man died!
She dared not speakâ€”and the mystery Is buried in auld lang syne, But out on the wastes of the West countrie, Grim and silent as such men be, Rideth a man with a historyâ€™ Anthony Considine.