The Tide

The Tide

You’ll never know how they rowed on the water
A widower and the innkeeper’s daughter
A bad match to make, a harsh cross to bear
His kissed her cold lips, his hands in her hair

He got so tired, fighting the tide
Weighed down with shame, trapped by his pride
Her ivory skin, her bright hazel eyes
He opened his mouth and he let in the tide

You’ll never know how the river, it held them
Like babes in arms, like love’s drowning children
Her mother, she  said if you see him again
Don’t you darken my door with your face again

She got so tired, fighting the tide
Love turned to pain, a thorn in her side
Her vale of tears filled the sea and the sky
She opened her mouth and she let the tide

You’ll never know how the priest he heard
Their soft marriage vows, their last parting words
Til death did they part, their fingers entwined
United in death by the pull of the tide

They got so tired, fighting the tide
They both took their vows, they both took their lives
For better or worse til the day that they died
They opened their mouths and they let in the tide

‘Yesterday morning some considerable sensation was created in Rochester, owing to a young man and a young girl of respectable appearance, having been found drowned about 6 o’clock this morning, clasped in each others arms, lying on the mud of the River Medway, opposite a place called Phillips Wall.’

http://www.kenthistoryforum.co.uk/index.php?topic=5704.0

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About andrewday82

My psychoanalyst thinks I'm perfectly right. View all posts by andrewday82

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