| Lyrics: | Samuel Young
Come all you people, old and young
Come listen to my feeble
song,
And I'll relate before I'm done
The certain death of Samuel Young
He
lived in London, Kentucky State,
It was in eighteen and forty-eight.
The call was in for
men to go
To these lowlands in Mexico.
Because he loved a lady fair,
Whose
father was a snareling heir,
Saying: You shall go, I'll let you know,
To the lowlands in
Mexico. (or)
To fight the foe in Mexico.
They tore him from his mother
dear,
Whose heart and eyes was filled with tears;
Saying: "You shall go, I'll let you
see,"
He only got to Monteree.
There sickness seized this tender lad,
Which
soon confined him to his bed.
No frightful no dreadful sight
Soon out this breathless
thread of life.
His spirit's gone to worlds unknown,
His body lies there in the
tomb
And there must lie till that great day
When hills and mountains melts
away.
Note: This, I guess is a sort of un-ballad --- a narrative song
where the
narrative line is pretty much non-existent. Anyway,
Sharp collected it. RG
From English
Folk Songs in the Southern Appalachian Mountains,
Sharp. Collected from Mrs. Sina Boone, NC,
1918
@recruiting @death
filename[ SAMYOUNG
play.exe
SAMYOUNG
RG
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