Mountain Home, Ark.
December 1963 -
Reel 436, Item 10
Collected from: Gertrude Johnson
Collected by: Carolyn Wood
You ask what makes die darky wepp,
Why he likes like others am not gray
What causes the tears to raoll down his cheek
From early dawn till close of day,
My story, darkies, you shall hear,
For in my memory fresh it dwells;
It will cause you all to drop a tear On the grave of my Sweet Kittie Wells.
While the birds sang sweetly in the morning,
And the myrtle and the ivy were in bloom And the sun on the hilltops was a dawning,
It was then we laid her in the tomb.
I shall never forget the day That we together roamed the dells.
I kissed her cheek and named the day That I should marry Kittle Wells.
But death came in my cabin door And took from me my joy and pride,
And when I found she was no more I laid my banjo down and cried.
I oft times wish that I were dead And laid beside her in the tomb;
The sorrow that bows down my head Is silent in the midnight gloom.
The springtime has nocharm for me Though flowers are blooming in the dells For there's one bright form I do not see,
Tis the form of my sweet Kittie Wells.
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