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| (​✻✻​) John Jacob Niles - The Lass from the Low Countree | Текст песни

Oh, she was a lass from the low countree
And he was a lord of high degree
But she loved his lordship so tenderly.
Oh sorrow, sing sorrow...
Now she sleeps in the valley where the wild flowers nod
And no one knows she loved him but herself and God.

One morn when the sun was on the mead
He passed her door on a <...> white steed
She smiled and she spoke, but he paid no heed
Oh sorrow, sing sorrow
Now she sleeps in the valley where the wild flowers nod
And no one knows she loved him but herself and God.

If you be a lass from the low countree
Don't love of no lord of high degree
They haint got a heart for sympathy
Oh sorrow, sing sorrow
Now she sleeps in the valley where the wild flowers nod
And no one knows she loved him but herself and God.

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