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122 AMERICAN BALLADS AND SONGS
She wandered down by a bright flowing river,
And sat herself beneath a tree. She sighed and said, "0 will I ever,
Will I e'er more my true love see?"
Then up she picked her silver dagger,
And pressed it through her snowy white breast.
She first did reel and then did stagger, Saying, " My true love, you come too late."
This young man being by the roadside heard her;
He thought he knew his true love's voice. He ran, he ran, like one distracted,
Saying, "My true love, I fear you're lost."
He ran up to this dying body,
Rolled it over into his arms, Saying, "Neither gold nor friends can save you,
For you are dying in my arms."
Her two pretty eyes like stars she opened, Saying, "My true love, you come too late.
Prepare to meet me on Mount Zion, Where all lover's joys shall be complete."
Then up he picked this bloody dagger, Pressed it through his aching heart;
And now, dear friends, may this be a warning To all who try to part true love.