The Lakes of Ponchartrain
http://www.greyhoundmusic.co.uk/lakesofponch.mp3
It was one fine March morning I bade New Orleans adieu,
And I took the road to Jackson Town, my fortune to renew,
I cursed our foreign money, no credit could I gain
Which filled my heart with longing for the Lakes of Ponchartrain.
I stepped on board a railroad car beneath the morning sun,
I rode the rods till evening and I laid me down again,
Oh strangers, they’re no friends to me, till a dark girl towards me came,
And I fell in love with a creole girl by the Lakes of Ponchartrain.
I said, ‘My pretty creole girl, my money is no good.
If it weren’t for the alligators I sleep out in the wood.’
‘You’re welcome here, kind stranger, our house is very plain,
But we never turn a stranger out by the Lakes of Ponchartrain.’
She took me into her mammy’s house and treated me right well
The hair upon her shoulders in jet-black ringlets fell;
To try to paint her beauty I’m sure t’would be in vain,
So handsome was my creole girl by the Lakes of Ponchartrain.
I asked her if she’d marry me; she said that could never be,
For she had got a lover, and he was far at sea;
She said that she would wait for him, and true she would remain,
So faithful was my creole girl by the Lakes of Ponchartrain.
Then it’s fare thee well, my bonny young girl, I never will see thee more,
I’ll ne’er forget your kindness in the cottage by the shore,
And at each social gathering, a flowing glass I’ll drain,
And I’ll drink a health to my creole girl by the Lakes of Ponchartrain.
She Moves Through the Fair
http://www.greyhoundmusic.co.uk/shemovesthro.mp3
My young love said to me, ‘My mother won’t mind
And my father won’t slight you for you lack of kind,’
And she laid her hand on me, and to me did say,
‘It will not be long, love, till our wedding day.’
And she turned away from me and she moved through the fair
And fondly I watched her move here and move there
Till at last she went homewards with one star awake
As the swan in the evening moves over the lake.
The people were saying, ‘No two e’er were wed
But one had a sorrow that ne’er could be said,’
And I smiled as she passed me with her goods and her gear,
And that was the last that I saw of my dear.
Last night she came to me, my dead love came in
She came in so softly, her feet made no din,
And she laid her hand on me, and to me did say,
‘It will not be long, love, till our wedding day.’
The Banks of Sweet Primroses
http://www.greyhoundmusic.co.uk/banksofprim.mp3
As I walked out on a fine summer morning
To view the fields and to take the air
Down by the banks of the sweet primroses
There I beheld a most lovely fair.
I said, ‘Fair maid, why are you grieving?
And what’s the occasion of all your grief?
I will give you whate’er your poor heart could long for
If you will grant to me one small relief.’
‘Stand off, stand off, you’re a false deceiver:
You are a false deceiver, this I know,
For it’s you that have caused my poor heart to wander,
You are the occasion of all my woe.’
‘Then I’ll go down to some lonesome valley,
To some lonesome valley where no man can me find,
Where the pretty small birds do change their voices
And each moment blows the restless wind.’