Lass From The Low Country

She was a lass from the low country

And he was a lord of high degree

And she loved his lordship so tenderly

Sing sorrow, sing sorrow

And she sleeps in the valley

Where the wildflowers nod

Nobody knows she loved him

But herself and God

One day when the show was on the mead

He passed her by on a milk white steed

She waited as he passed but he paid no heed

Sing sorrow, sing sorrow

And she sleeps in the valley

Where the wildflowers nod

Nobody knows she loved him

But herself and God

So if you be a lass from the low country

Don't love no lord of high degree

For they ain't got no heart or sympathy

Sing sorrow, sing sorrow

And you sleep in the valley

Where the wildflowers nod

Nobody knows you loved him

But yourself and God