English Folk Songs from the Southern Appalachians

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	Young Hunting 9 Come down, come down, my pretty parrot bird, And sit at my right knee, And your cage shall be decked of the yellow beaten gold And hung on the ivory. 10 I won't come down, nor I won't come down, Nor sit at your right knee, For you just now murdered your own true love, And soon you'd murder me. ill wish I had in my bow in flight, My arrow keen and sharp, I'd pierce a lightning all through your breast That you never should sing again. 12 If you had your bow in flight, Your arrow keen and sharp, My two little wings would carry me away, Where you never would see me again.

	2 I can't come in, Lady Margaret, said he, Nor stay all night with thee, For the girl that I left in the Arkansas land Will think long of my return. 3 Then stooping over the great high fence And kissing all so sweet, She had a penknife in her hand And she plunged it into the deep. 53