The Icy-Cold Hand

My master came ramblin’ o’er the moor,
“O Nelly, I’ve seen such sights”,
He’s shaken, he’s pale, he slams the door,
“Strange sights, at Wuthering Heights!”

O let me in – will no one hear?
I was lost, but now I’m home,
I’ve been a waif for twenty year,
No longer will I roam!

“Old Heathcliff is a miserable man,
His face is filled with doom,
Wind and rain, round the house they ran,
‘Tonight, you’ll have a room.'”

O let me in – will no one hear?
I was lost, but now I’m home,
I’ve been a waif for twenty year,
No longer will I roam!

“The wind, about the house did wuther,
In dreams, dark visions came
A tale o’ sad lovers, and murder,
Broken. Branches scrape the pane.”

O let me in – will no one hear?
I was lost, but now I’m home,
I’ve been a waif for twenty year,
No longer will I roam!

“But it grabbed, ’twas an icy-cold hand!
Clamped, and remove it I tried,
And I had hardly the power to stand,
When the lily-white figure, it cried:

‘O let me in – will no one hear?
I was lost, but now I’m home,
I’ve been a waif for twenty year,
No longer will I roam!’

And this is why I sojourn here,
‘Pon memory, this ghost did brand,
What is the legend of last night’s fear?
Whose is that icy-cold hand?”

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