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1. Amid the Blue Ridge Mountains there lived a maiden fair,
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whose life was pure as heaven whose heart was free from care.
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She dreamed of love and romance with heart so glad and free,
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no gloom within the future young Freda Bolt could see.
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2. Nearby lived Dearon Harmon, boy she loved so well,
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and of these two young lovers a story I will tell.
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‘Twas late one Thursday evening, the stars were shinning dim,
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that Dearon called his sweetheart to come and go with him.
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3. He told her on tomorrow that they would surely wed,
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but little was she thinking, he'd take her life instead.
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They motored to Bent Mountain, a place so dark and lone,
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and there her form so helpless he placed beneath the stones.
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4. Away from home and mother that Freda loved so well,
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the bitter pain and anguish no mortal tongue can tell.
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Through tears she pled for mercy, but he denied her cry,
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young Harmon left his sweetheart in agony to die.
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5. We think that God in heaven most surely heard her cry,
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and sent a band of angels to linger very nigh.
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And bear her spirit over to yonder happy shore,
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where dying comes no, never, and parting is no more.