The Banks of Boyne

I am a bonnie lassie and I love my laddie well,
My heart was always true to him for more than time can tell;
It was in my father’s castle where he gained this heart of mine,
But he has left me here to wander on the lovely banks of Boyne.

His coal black hair in ringlets hung, his cheeks were like the rose,
His teeth were like the ivory white, his eyes were black as Sloes,
His countenance it was sincere, his speech was bold but kind,
But he has left me here to wander on the lovely banks of Boyne.

I understand my false young man to England sailed away,
I picked up all my jewels, all on that very day,
I left my aged parents, they now in sorrow pine,
I forsook my father’s castle on the lovely banks of Boyne.

No more down by those purling streams that swiftly glide away,
Where me and my true lover for pleasure used to stray;
Come, all you pretty fair maids, mind how you spend your time,
Just think of the fate of Flora from the lovely banks of Boyne.

Gordon, Robert Winslow, 1888-1961
Date Recorded: 
September, 1924
Track Duration (h:m:s): 
Original Medium: 
wax cylinder
American Folklife Center, Library of Congress
Call Number/Physical Location: 
AFS 19011A: G86 Misc 145

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