Poor Ellen Smith

Poor Ellen Smith, how she was found

Shot through the heart, lyin' cold on the ground

Her clothes were all scattered and thrown on the ground

Blood marks the spot where poor Ellen was found

Saw her on Monday before that sad day

They found her poor body and took it away

Who had the heart, oh, who had the face

To murder my sweetheart in this lonesome place?

Oh, I laid out six months, and prayed all the time

They might find the one that committed the crime

They picked up their rifles and hunted me down

Found me a-loafin' in Mount Airy town

Now I'm in jail and God knows it's hard

While my sweetheart sleeps calmly in that lonesome graveyard

I got a letter yesterday, I read it today

Said, "The flowers on her grave have all faded away"

I've been in this prison for twenty long years

Each night I see Ellen through my bitter tears

The warden just told that soon I'll be free

To go to her grave near that old willow tree

Someday I'll go home and I'll stay when I go

On poor Ellen's grave, pretty flowers I'll sow