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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."
Contributed by Martha Warren
Page Revised: July 2002 (Don Tate)
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