The snow it grows deeper, more trackless the
{"newspaper_name": "The Wilmingtonian, and Delaware register.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": ""}
The snow it grows deeper, more trackless the


way,


And wish not to leave you behind;
If Tinker should ta1y, my Mary would sigh,
She calls you poor fellow and wipes her bright


eye,
And pats on your head, when she bids you good


bye,


Her heart is so tender and kind.
More fierce grew the storm and more high the


wind blew, /.
And the church on the hill was obscur'd from the


view,


And darker than pitch grew the night,
Bcnumb'd with the cold, he was thinking he'd


stay,
And chat with his true love until it was day,
When the evening wind led him little astray,
And he spp'd, and he sunk out Of sight.
Poor Mary, she watch'd the approach of the


storm,
And fcar'd that her lover would come to some


harm,
Sat listening to every noise;
The wind and snow driving, were all that she


heard;
She wish'd that he'd come-yet his coming she


fear'd,
When Tinker, poor Tinker, her fond bosom


chcer'd


BY the sound of his known welcome voice.
Fer she opened the door, she expected his


knock,
She expected his kiss--but how great was the
shock,
To find that no William was there
With dread apprehension, poor Mary turn'd
pale;
But when faithful Tinker had how'd out his
tale,
He publ herby her gown in spite ofthe gale;
She followed in woe and despair.
Not very far off, at the foot of the hill,
And down steep rock, near the race of the


mill,


The corpse of her lover now lay;
The hollow wind how'd through the trees on


the brow,
The limbs were encumbered with volumes Of
snow,
The frost it was keen, but she felt it not now,
And Tinker he led her the way.
When breathlsss with fear, she arrived at the


place,
She gave one sad look at her lovers pale face,
Forever, alas he was gone:
With a piteous shrek, she sunk down and
died.
Their bodies next morning, neighbour es-


pied,
And poor faithful Tinker. lay close BY their


side,


AS dead and as cold as stone.