Testo di Lass of the Low Country

Oh, she was a lass from the low country And he was a lord of high degree But she loved her lordship so tenderly. Oh sorrow sing sorrow Now she sleeps in the valley where the wild flowers nod And no one knows she loved him but herself and God One morn when the sun was on the mead He passed by her door on a milk white steed She smiled and she spoke, but he paid no heed Oh sorrow sing sorrow Now she sleeps in the valley where the wild flowers nod And no one knows she loved him but herself and God If you be a lass from the low country Don't love no lord of high degree They haint got a heart for sympathy Oh sorrow sing sorrow Now she sleeps in the valley where the wild flowers nod And no one knows she loved him but herself and God