English Folk Songs from the Southern Appalachians

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	The Daemon Lover
	3 If you'll forsake your house-carpenter And go along with me, I'll take you where the grass grows green On the banks of sweet Tennessee. 4 She picked up her tender little babe And kisses give it three. Stay here, stay here, my tender little babe, And keep your pa company. 5 They hadn't been a-sailing but about two weeks, I'm sure it was not three, Till this fair damsel began for to weep, She wept most bitterly. 6 O what are you weeping for, my love ? Is it for my gold or store ? Or is it for your house-carpenter, Whose face you'll see no more ? 7 I'm neither weeping for your gold, Nor neither for your store, But I'm weeping for my tender little babe Whose face I'll see no more. 8 What banks, what banks before us now As white as any snow ? It's the banks of Heaven, my love, she replied, Where all good people go. 9 What banks, what banks before us now As black as any crow ? It's the banks of hell, my love, he replied, Where I and you must go. 10 They hadn't been sailing but about three weeks, I'm sure it was not four, Till that fair ship begin for to sink, She sank and riz' no more. c Sung by Mrs. Bishop Hexatonic. Mode 4, a. at Clay Co., Kentucky, July 16, 1909

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