Down the road I look and there runs Mary. Hair of gold and lips like cherries. We go down to the river where the willows weep. Take a naked root for a lovers seat. That rose out of the bitten soil. But sound to the ground by creeping ivy coils. O Mary you have seduced my soul. And I don't know right from wrong. Forever a hostage of your child's world. . And then I ran my tin-cup heart along. The prison of her ribs. And with a toss of her curls. That little girl goes wading in. Rollin her dress up past her knee. Turning these waters into wine. Then she platted all the willow vines. . Mary in the shallows laughing. Over where the carp dart. Spooked by the new shadows that she cast. Across these sad waters and across my heart.