Pretty Saro

Down some lone valley in some lone place
Where the wild birds do whistle and notes do increase
Farewell pretty Saro, I bid you adieu
And think of you often wherever I go

Your parents don't like me so I understand
They want a free holder who has him some land
I cannot maintain you with silver and gold
Nor buy you the fine things a big house can hold

If I were a merchant or could write a fine hand
I'd write you a letter that you'd understand
I'd follow this river wherever it flows
And think of you often, wherever I go

And think of pretty Saro, wherever I go