Pretty Saro

Down some lone valley in some lone place

Where the wild birds do whistle and notes do increase

Farewell pretty Saro, I bid you adieu

And think of you often wherever I go

Your parents don't like me so I understand

They want a free holder who has him some land

I cannot maintain you with silver and gold

Nor buy you the fine things a big house can hold

If I were a merchant or could write a fine hand

I'd write you a letter that you'd understand

I'd follow this river wherever it flows

And think of you often, wherever I go

And think of pretty Saro, wherever I go