The Little Maumee

As I was a-roving for pleasure one day,

In self-recollection as the tine passed away,

As I was amusing myself on the grass,

Oh, who should I spy but a sweet indian lass.



She stood there beside me and took up my hand,

Saying, "You look like a stranger, not one of this land."

Says she, "My pale-faced one, if you will agree,

I will teach you the language of the little Maumee"



She sat down beside me still holding my hand,

Saying, "You look like a stranger, not one of this land."

Says she, "My pale-faced one, if you will consent,

We'll live here together in peace and content."



" O no, my fair jewel, that never can be,

For I have a sweetheart in my own country.

O no my fair jewel, that never can be;

I'll never forsake her, and I know she won't me."



The last time I saw her was down on the sand,

And as my boat passed she gave me her hand,

Saying " Wherever you wander, wherever you go,

Remember the maiden where the cocoanuts grow."



Now I am back on my own native shore,

With friends and relatives around me once more ;

Of all that's around me and all that I see,

There is none to compare with the little Maumee.



From Folk-Songs of the South, Cox

@love

filename[ LILMOHE1

RG

===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY