Pretty Saro

When I first came to this country in 1849

I saw many fair lovers but I never saw 

I peered all around me, saw I was quite alone

Me a poor stranger and a long ways from home. 

 

Well my true love she won’t have me and it’s this that I understand 

For she wants some free holder and I have no land 

I couldn’t maintain her on silver and gold 

And all of the other fine things that my love’s house should hold. 

 

Way down in some lonesome valley, way down in some lonesome place 

Where the wild birds do warble and their notes they do increase 

My love she is handsome from her foot to her brow

Well I once loved her dearly and I don’t hate her now. 

 

Well I wish I was poet that could write some fine hand 

I would write my love a letter that she might understand 

I’d send it by water where the islands overflow 

And think of my Saro wherever I go. 

 

Well I wish I was a turtledove, had wings and could fly 

Far way to my lover’s lodgings tonight I’d draw nigh

And there in her little white arms I would lay there all night 

And watch through the little window for the dawn of the day. 

 

Well it’s not this long journey I’m dreading for to go 

Nor the country I’m leaving, nor the debts that I owe 

There’s only one thing that troubles my mind 

It’s leaving my darling, Pretty Saro behind. 

 

Fare the well to old mother, fare the well to father too

I am going for to wander this wild world all through 

And when I get weary, I’ll sit down and cry 

And think of my darling, Pretty Saro my bride.