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No. 22 |
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Giles Collins |
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A |
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heard George was dead, She wrung her hands and cried. .
2 Mary in the hallway, sewing her silk, She's sewing her silk so fine,
And when she heard that George were dead, She threw her sewing aside.
3 She followed him up, she followed him down, She followed him to his grave,
And there all on her bended knee She wept, she mourned, she prayed.
4 Hush up, dear daughter, don't take it so hard, There's more pretty boys than George. There's more pretty boys all standing around, But none so dear as George.
5 Look away, look away, that lonesome dove That sails from pine to pine;
It's mourning for its own true love Just like I mourn for mine.
6 Set down the coffin, lift up the lid, And give me a comb-so fine,
And let me comb his cold, wavy hair, For I know he'll never comb mine.
7 Set down the coffin, lift up the lid, Lay back the sheetings so fine, And let me kiss his cold, sweet lips, For I know he'll never kiss mine. |
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