Simple Tin Whistle Tabs

When I first come to this country in eighteen

and forty nine

I saw many fair lovers, but I never saw mine

I viewéd all around me, I found I was quite alone

And me a poor stranger and a long way from home

Well my true love she won't have me and this I

understand

She wants a freeholder and I've got no land

But I couldn't maintain her on silver and gold

And as many of the fine things as my love's

house could hold

Fare you well to old father. Fare you well to

mother too.

I am going for to ramble this wide world all

through

And when I get weary, I'll sit down and cry

And I'll think of Pretty Saro, my darling, my

dear.

Well I wish I was a poet, could write some fine

hand

I would write my love a letter that she might

understand.

I'd send it by the waters where the islands

overflow

And I'd think of my darling wherever she'd go.

Way down in some lonesome valley. Way down in

some lonesome grove

Where the small birds does whistle, their notes

to increase

My love she is slender, both proper and neat

And I wouldn't have no better pastimes than to

be with my sweet.

Well I wish I was a turtle dove, had wings and

could fly

Just now to my love's lodging tonight I'd draw

nigh

And in her lily-white arms I'd lie there all

night

And I'd watch the little windows for the dawning

of day.

Well I strolled through the mountains, I

strolled through the vale

I strolled to forget her, but it was all in vain.

On the banks of Ocoee, on the mount of said brow

Where I once loved her dearly and I don't hate

her now.