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ON TOP OF OLD SMOKEY (Old Smoky) Sung by: Mrs. Alice Isringhouse Recorded in Holly Grove, AR 6/15/59 Click here to listen to the original recording All covered with snow, Where I lost my true lover By courting too slow. Now courting's a pleasure, And parting is grief, But a false-hearted true love Is worse than a thief. A thief can but rob you, And take what you have, But a false-hearted true love Will take you to your grave. The grave will decay you And turn you to dust. Only one boy out of twenty That a poor girl can trust. It's raining, it's hailing, And the moon gives no light. Your horses can't travel, This dark stormy night. So put up your horses And feed them some hay. Come sit down beside me As long as you stay. My horses aren't hungry; They won't eat your hay. So fare you well, darling; I'll feed on my way. Your parents are against me. Mine are the same, So put me down on your book, love; It troubles my name. I'll go up on Old Smokey, On the mountain so high, Where the wild bees and the turtledoves Can hear my sad cry. As soon as the dewdrops Grow on the green mound, Last night she was with me; Tonight she is gone. Now, cuckoo, she's a pretty bird; She sings as she flies. She brings you glad tiding, And tells you no lies. They will tell you they love you, Just to keep your heart ease, And when they are from you, They love whom they please. They will tell you they love you, They will tell you more lies Than the crossties in the railroads Or the stars in the sky. Now I can love little, Or I can love long. I can love an old sweetheart 'Til a new one comes on. I can hug, I can kiss them, Or I can prove to them kind, Or I can turn my back on them, And also my mind. Also found in Brown, Vol. III, #253, "Old Smoky." |
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All Songs Recorded by John Quincy Wolf, Jr., unless otherwise noted The John Quincy Wolf Folklore Collection Lyon College, Batesville, Arkansas Back to the Song Index Back to the Wolf Collection Homepage ©Copyright 2002 Lyon College |