|
Down in some lone valley,
|
In a lonesome place
|
Where the wild birds do whistle,
|
And their notes do increase
|
Farewell pretty Saro,
|
I bid you adieu,
|
But I'll dream of pretty Saro
|
Wherever I go.
|
|
My love, she won't have me,
|
So I understand,
|
She wants a freeholder
|
Who owns house and land.
|
I cannot maintain her,
|
With silver and gold
|
Nor buy all the fine things
|
That a big house can hold.
|
|
If I were a merchant
|
And could write a fine hand
|
I'd write my love a letter
|
That she'd understand
|
I'd write it by the river
|
Where the waters o'er-flow
|
And I'll dream of pretty Saro,
|
Wherever I go.
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Pretty Saro
|
| Andreas Scholl |
