Jenny Jones, O Jenny Jones,
Where do you go when the night wind moans?
When the clouds sweep over a wet grey sky
And dim black shadows go racing by?
 
Where do you go when alone you stand,
Your garments tossed by an unseen hand
With arms outstretched to the shrieking night
O gleaming hair in the ghostly light?
 
Where do you go when you start and fly
To the winding lane with a laughing cry
And opening wide the gate are gone
While the whirling leaves and the wind sweep on?
 
They bear you away with them, Jenny Jones,
The shadows, the leaves, and the wind that moans
Their voices wail on a distant hill
But the stars look down and the lane is still.