Roamed the dark, but pretty maiden,
Occoneechee, lovely child,
Roamed she far out in the mountains,
‘Mid their solitude so wild.
Dreamed she oft here, as she rambled,
Of her warrior Whippoorwill,
Of her lover, long her lover,
Whom she first met near the rill,
High upon the Smoky Mountains,
Where the sunset’s afterglow