George Collins rode home one cold winter night
George Collins rode home so fine
George Collins rode home one cold winter night
He took down sick and died
Now Mary was seated in yander fair town
A-sewin' their silk so fine
But when she heard that George was dead
She laid her fair self aside
She followed him up she followed him down
She followed him to his grave
And there upon here bending knee
She cried and screamed and prayed
Oh daughter, dear daughter, why do you weep so?
There's more young man than one
Oh no, oh no, George has my heart
And now he's dead and gone
Oh don't you hear that turtle dove
Way off in yonder's long pine?
A-mournin' for its own true love
Just like I mourn for mine
George Collins rode home that cold winter night
George Collins rode home so fine
George Collins rode home that cold winter night
He took down sick and died