The Wuthering Tales: Edgar's Prologue
There was a boy who lived not far
From where the grounds of Wuthering Heights are,
And fate so had it that came a day
When the mistress was made at his house to stay.
There must have sprung from that time a spark
Of love that rose like a graceful lark,
For from then on, these two—he and she—
Timid, young lovers then came to be.
But came a day when he went to her house
In hopes of meeting his likely spouse
And witnessed some cruelty of hers firsthand
That this simple-souled, blue-eyed blondie couldn't stand.
Even so, he forgave her and they married,
But soon his wife in the ground would be buried.
He forbade her from seeing her longstanding friend—
A measure that led to her tragic end.
She shut herself up in her room, didn't eat—
Hoping in this way he'd meet his defeat.
She lost her wits, it can be said—
She wasn't right then in the head.
From pity and charity her he attended—
Duty and humanity in there blended.
He then, while the illness her temper subdued,
Brought about the child that her life would conclude.