Pretty Saro

When I came to this country in 1845

Then I thought myself lucky for to be alive

I looked all around me and none could I see

That were sweeter or fairer, pretty Saro, than thee

Pretty Saro, pretty Saro, likewise my mother too

I have started for to ramble this country all through

And when I get tired, I'll sit down and weep

And I'll think of my pretty Saro wherever I sleep

Oh, it's not this long journey I'm a-dreadin' for to go

Not the country I'm a-leavin' and nor the debts that I owe

But there's one thing that grieves me and troubles my mind

It's a-leavin' my little darlin' way back here behind

If I was a poet and could write a fine hand

I would write my love a letter that she'd long understand

I would send it by the waters where the islands overflow

I'll remember my pretty Saro wherever I go