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As I roved out one day in June, 'Twas down by Jim Long's stage, I met my true love's father All in a frightful rage. His eyes shot blood and slaughter, As these words he spoke to me, "Young man, you wants me daughter, But you never can wed she." For a better man I'm searchin' For she must wed the best, I intend her for a merchant Who lives in Bonavist". Says I :" I'll win Eliza Tho 'tis against your will, And I'll build a fairy bower For her on notchy hill. Beyond the Plate Cove Mountains, Where the pleasant waters flow I'll build a home for 'Lisa Where the great big birches grow. And 'twill be a happy homestead, No trouble and no strife, For I mean to have Eliza, To be my darlin' wife." With that her father smiled on me Sayin' : "Young man you need not rove, You're the bravest youth from Red Cliff Right round to Western Cove. And that man in Bonavista, I didn't mean at all. So you can have Eliza, And wed her in the fall."
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Contributed by Martha Warren
Page Revised: July 2002 (Don Tate)
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