The girls in the country they grin like a cat,
And with giggling and laughing they don't know what they're at,
They think they're pretty and I tell you they're wise,
But they couldn't get married to save their two eyes,—
And they're down, down, and they're down.
You can tell a good girl wherever she's found;
No trimming, no lace, no nonsense around;
With a long-eared bonnet tied under her chin,—
And they're down, down, and they're down.
They'll go to church with their snuff-box in hand,
They'll give it a tap to make it look grand;
Perhaps there is another one or two
And they'll pass it around and it's "Madam, won't you,"—
And they're down, down, and they're down.
Now, I think it's quite time for this ditty to end;
If there's anyone here that it will offend,
If there's anyone here that thinks it amiss
Just come around now and give the singer a kiss,—
And they're down, down, and they're down.
The sun was sinking in the west
And fell with lingering ray
Through the branches of a forest
Where a wounded ranger lay;
Beneath the shade of a palmetto
And the sunset silvery sky,
Far away from his home in Texas
They laid him down to die.
A group had gathered round him,
His comrades in the fight,
A tear rolled down each manly cheek
As he bid a last good-night.
One tried and true companion
Was kneeling by his side,
To stop his life-blood flowing,
But alas, in vain he tried.
When to stop the life-blood flowing
He found 'twas all in vain,
The tears rolled down each man's cheek
Like light showers of rain.
Up spoke the noble ranger,
"Boys, weep no more for me,
I am crossing the deep waters
To a country that is free.