Oh, I loved a lass, so fair and bright, Beneath the blue ridge mountain light. Our hearts entwined like the sweet vine, In the whispering willow's sweet moonshine. But the frost came early, the vine did wilt, Nothing left but sorrow and guilt. She loved another, I was cast aside, Like a leaf adrift on the river's stern tide. Well, the hurt remains, and the love is lost, Paid the heartache's bitter cost. But the blue ridge mountains still sing her song, And in my heart, she'll always belong. {end}
