Poor Ellen Smith - Artus Moser



     
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Poor Ellen Smith Lyrics


Poor Ellen Smith, how was she found
Shot through the heart lying cold on the ground
Her body was mangled, and all cast around
A blood marks the spot where poor Ellen was foundThey picked up her body, and carried it away
Now she's a-sleepin' in some lonesome grave
Who had the heart, and who had the brain
To shoot my little darling on that cold lonesome plainThey picked up their rifles, and hunted us down
They found us a loafin' all around town
The judge my convict me, and God knows he can
But I know I died as an innocent manI've been in this prison for seven long years
Each night I see Ellen through my bitter tears
I got a letter yesterday I read it today
The flowers on her grave have all faded awayThe warden just told me that soon I'll be free
To go to her grave 'neath that old willow tree
I'm free from the walls of that prison, at last
But I'll never be free from my sins of the pastPoor Ellen Smith, how was she found
Shot through the heart lying cold on the ground

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Artus Monroe Moser (1894-1992), writer, educator, and historian, spent much of his life collecting ballads in and around his home in Western North Carolina in an effort to document the folk traditions of Appalachia. Moser wrote extensively about the folk songs, folklore, and history of Appalachia, and recorded numerous Appalachian performers onto acetate discs. In 1945, the Library of Congress provided Moser with the equipment to collect and record more material, which was later placed in the LC's Archive of American Folk Song.

Read more about Artus Moser on Last.fm.


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Artus Moser