But maybe I'll slay with the tongue
And the heart that will never forgive

The curse of the frail will be strong,
The curse of the widow be sure;
O the curse of the wrong'd will avenge,
Black, black is the curse of the poor!

Ha! laugh at your ease while you can--
Laugh! it's the devil's turn next--
For after I'm done with you all,
O who will be doleful and vext?

Bare-kneed on the ground will I go--
My hair on my shoulders let fall,
Now hear me and never forget
My curses I'll cast on you all

_Little increase to your clan!
The down-mouth to you and to yours!
The blight on your little black cave!
The luck o' a Friday on moors!

Fire upon land be your lot!
Drowning in storm on the deep!
Leave not a son to succeed!
Leave not a daughter to weep!

Here's the bad meeting to you!
Death without priest be your fate!