English Folk Songs from the Southern Appalachians

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	The Wagoner's Lad 5 My horses ain't hungry, They can't eat your hay ; I'll drive on to Georgia And feed on the way. 6 It's when I get to Georgia, I'll write you my mind. My mind is to marry And leave you behind.
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	2 I viewed her features and she pleased me well; I forced all on her my mind for to tell. She quickly consented my bride for to be, But her parents wasn't willing for she to have me. 3 I am a poor girl and my fortune is bad, And I've duly been courted by the wagoner lad, I've duly been courted by night and by day, But now he's a-loaded, he's going away. 4 Your horses is hungry, go feed them some hay, Come set down beside me, is all I can say. My horses ain't hungry, they won't eat your hay, So farewell, pretty Nancy, I've no time to stay. 5 Your horses is not geared up, nor your whip in your hand, Come set you down by me, just at my command. My horses is geared up, my whip in my hand, So farewell, pretty Nancy, I've no time to stand. 218