When I first come to this country In eighteen and forty-nine I saw many fair lovers But I never saw mine I viewed it all around me Saw I was quite alone And me a poor stranger And a long way from home Well, my true love she won't have me And it's this I understand For she wants some free holder And I have no land I couldn't maintain her On silver and gold But all of the other fine things That my love's house could hold Fare thee well to ol' Mother Fare thee well to my Father, too I'm going for to ramble This wide world all through And when I get weary, I'll sit down and cry And think of my Saro, Pretty Saro, my bride Well, I wished I was a turtledove, Had wings and could fly For away to my lover's lodgings Tonight I'd draw nigh And there in her lily-white arms I'd lay there all night And watch through them little windows For the dawning of day...
