Pretty Saro

Appalachian

Down in some lone valley, in a lonesome place,
Where the wild birds do whistle and their notes do increase,
Farewell pretty Saro, I'll bid you adieu,
And I'll dream of pretty Saro where ever I go.

My love, she won't have me, so I understand,
She wants a freeholder and I have no land,
I can no maintain her with silver and gold,
Nor buy all the fine things that a big house can hold.

If I were a merchant and could write a fine hand,
I'd write my love a letter that she'd understand,
But I'll wander by the river where the waters o'erflow,
And I'll dream of pretty Saro where ever I go.