John Kinsella's Lament For Mrs. Mary Moore

I

A bloody and a sudden end,
   Gunshot or a noose,
For Death who takes what man would keep,
   Or leaves what man would lose.
He might have had my sister,
   My cousins by the score,
But nothing satisfied the old fool
   But my dear Mary Moore,
None other knows what pleasures man
   At table or in bed.
What shall I do for pretty girls
   Now my old bawd is dead?

II

Though swift to strike a bargain,
   Like an old Jew man,
Her bargain struck we laughed and talked
   And emptied many a can;
And O! but she had stories,
   Though not for the priest's ear,
To keep the soul of man alive
   Banish age and care,
And being old she put a skin
   On everything she said.
What shall I do for pretty girls
   Now my old bawd is dead?

III

I have heard it said in chapel
   That but for Adam's sin
Eden's Garden should still be there
   And I be there within.
No expectation fails there,
   No pleasing habit ends,
No man grows old, no girl grows cold
   But friend walks by friend;
No quarrels over halfpennies
   That plucks the trees for bread?
What shall I do for pretty girls
   Now my old bawd is dead?