Out in the wastes of the West countrie, Out where the white stars shine, Grim and silent as such men be, Rideth a man with a history —
Anthony Considine. For the ways of men they are manifold As their differing views in life; For some are sold for the lust of gold
And some for the lust of strife: But this man counted the world well lost For the love of his neighbour's wife. They fled together, as those must flee
Whom all men hold in blame; Each to the other must all things be Who cross the gulf of iniquity And live in the land of shame.
But a light-o’ - love, if she sins with one, She sinneth with ninety-nine: The rule holds good since the world begun — Since ever the streams began to run
And the stars began to shine. The rule holds true, and he found it true — Anthony Considine. A nobler spirit had turned in scorn
From a love that was stained with mire; A weaker being might mourn and mourn For the loss of his Heart's Desire: But the anger of Anthony Considine
Blazed up like a flaming fire. And she, with her new love, presently Came past with her eyes ashine; And God so willed it, and God knows why,
She turned and laughed as they passed him by — Anthony Considine. Her laughter stung as a whip might sting; And mad with his wounded pride
He turned and sprang with a panther's spring And struck at his rival's side: And only the woman, shuddering, Could tell how the dead man died!
She dared not speak — and the mystery Is buried in auld lang syne, But out on the wastes of the West countrie, Grim and silent as such men be,
Rideth a man with a history — Anthony Considine.
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