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She's Like The Swallow

Pamela Morgan


She’s like the swallow that flies so high
Like the river that never runs dry
Like the sunshine on the lee shore
She lost her love and love is no more

‘Twas down in the garden this fair maid did go
Plucking the beautiful primrose
The more she plucked, the more she pulled
Until she gathered her apron full

She climbed on yonder hill above
To give a rose unto her love
She gave him one, she gave him three
She gave her heart in company

And as they sat on yonder hill
His heart grew hard, so harder still
He has two hearts instead of one
She cried “young man, what have you done

For when I carried my apron low
You followed me through frost and snow
But now my apron is to my chin
You pass my door, and won’t call in”

“How foolish, foolish this fair maid must be
To think I love none other but she
The world’s not made for one alone
I take delight in everyone”

She took her roses and made a bed
A stony pillow for her head
She laid her down, no word did say
Just let those roses fade away

She’s like the swallow that flies so high
Like the river that never runs dry
Like the sunshine on the lee shore
She lost her love, so she’ll love no more

Compositor: Traditional

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