By C. B. Langston
Let me tell ye your fortune, dear lady, today,
And I’ll tell ye a fortune ye wouldn’t gainsay;
I’ll read ye a page from the big book of Fate,
And I’ll tell o’ yer love, and I’ll tell o’ yer hate;
But first cross my palm with ten strokes o’ a shilling,
And I’ll tell where he lives, and his name, if ye’re willing.
But it’s sorrow the luck if I handle no gold,
And evil’s the spae when the siller’s untold!
If ye’ll show me yer hand, by the star o’ yer birth,
I’ll promise ye heaven, and I’ll promise ye earth!
Ye’ve a fair, lucky face, and the secret I’ll show,
A king would be glad to give kingdoms to know!
Bestow me a sixpence, and learn o’ yer lot,
And I’ll show ye a fortune a queen hasn’t got!
Here are lines of fair destiny, lady, I see,
Though some troubles, and crosses will pass over ye.
You will soon from yer home with another depart,
Who closer than brother is near to yer heart.
There’s that long a coming that soon will be brought,
By which two will be one by a circle o’ nought,
When the bridals ye’ll wear, and the bride-cake be bought.
Ye’ve a secret that lies in the core o’ yer heart,
That ye would, and would not, to another impart;–
A letter ye’ll get that will bring ye great news,
And that soon will be followed by him ye will choose.
Three great rivers ye’ll pass, and a journey ye’ll take,
And a tie ye will form, that ye never can break.
There’s a cross in yer lot, and a wish that is vain.
And the death of a kinsman, whose loss will be gain,
When handfuls of silver, and bagfuls of gold,
Will lift ye for ever from hunger and cold.
Ye’ve an enemy, lady, as dark as she’s fair,
Who will put the law on ye, and try for a share,
But ye’ll stand on yer rights, and the cause ye will win,
Though the scales will but turn by the weight of a pin.
The rest of yer days will be happy; ye’ll see
Your children, and grand-children, climb round yer knee.
Fair lady, I’ve done–Heaven’s blessing to ye!