She Died In Love - Mrs. Ghaney (NL) 1959 Peacock
[From: Songs Of The Newfoundland Outports, Volume 3, pp.705-707, by The National Museum Of Canada (1965) by Kenneth Peacock.
R. Matteson 2017]
She Died In Love - Collected by Kenneth Peacock in 1959 from Mrs Thomas (Anastasia Ryan) Ghaney [1883-1959] of Fermeuse, NL.
There is an ale-house in this town
Where my love goes in and sits himself down,
He takes some strange girl on his knee,
And don't you think it's a grief to me.
A grief to me and I'll tell you why,
Because she has more gold than I,
But her gold will waste and silver fly,
There's a time she'll have no more than I.
When I carried my apron low,
My love followed me through frost and snow,
But now my apron is to my chin,
My love passes by and won't call in.
Down in yon meadow I hear people say,
There grows a flower so costly and gay,
If I could chance one of them to find
'Twould cure my heart and ease my mind.
Down in the valley this fair one did go,
Picking those flowers so fast as they'd grow,
Some she plucked and more she pulled,
Until she gathered her apron full.
She carried them home and she made a bed,
A stony pillow for her head,
She laid herself down and never more spoke
Because, poor girl, her heart was broke.
When she was dead and her corpse was cold
This sad news to her true love was told,
"I'm sorry for her, poor girl," said he,
"How could she be so fond of me?"
Dig her a grave wide, long, and deep,
A tombstone at her head and feet,
And on her breast lay a turtle dove
So the world may know that she died in love.