American Ballads and Songs

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And do not forget to scratch on them, "Here lies Old Rosen the Bow."
Then let those same jovial fellows,
Surround my grave in a row, Whilst they drink from my favorite bottle
The health to old Rosen the Bow.
Way down in the meadow where the lily first blows, Where the wind from the mountain never ruffles the
rose, Lives fond Evalina, the sweet little dove, The pride of the valley, the girl that I love.
Sweet Evalina, dear Evalina,
My love for thee will never, never die.
She's fair as the rose, like a lamb she is meek, And she never was known to put paint on her cheek; In the most graceful curls hangs her raven black hair, And she never requires perfumery there.
Evalina and I one fond evening in June, Took a walk all alone by the light of the moon; The planets all shone for the heavens were clear, And I felt round my heart 0 so mightily queer.

E-Book - An Annotated Compendium of Old Time American Songs by James Alverson III