Saro

I came to this country

Eighteen and forty nine

I thought myself lucky

For to be alive

I looked all around me

No one could I see

That I could compare

With my pretty saree

I wish I was a poet

Could write in fine hand

I write my love a letter

Once she'd long understand

I'd send it by the water

Where the islands overflow

And I'd think of pretty saro

Wherever I go

This not this long journey

That grieves me for to go

Nor the country that I'm leaving

Nor the debts that I owe

There's one thing that grieves me

And bears on my mind

That's leaving my darling

Pretty saro behind