Pretty Saro

When I first come to this country in eighteen and forty-nine I saw many fair lovers but I never saw mine I viewed it all around me, saw I was quite alone Me a poor stranger and a long way from home Well, my true love she won't have me and it's this I understand For she wants some freeholder and I have no land I couldn't maintain her on silver and gold All of the other fine things that my love's house could hold Fare thee well to old mother, fare thee well to my father too I'm going for to ramble this wide world all through And when I get weary, I'll sit down and cry And think of my Saro, pretty Saro, my bride Well, I wish I was a turtle dove, had wings and could fly Far away to my lover's lodgings tonight I'd draw the line And there in her lily-white arms I'd lay there all night And watch through them little windows for the dawning of day