I came to this country in 1849
I saw many true loves, but never saw mine
I viewed all around me, and I am alone
And me a poor soldier and far from my home
It's not the long journey I'm dreading to go
Nor leaving the country for the debts that I owe
There's nothing that grieves me nor troubles my mind
Like leaving pretty Saro, my darling behind
I wish I was a poet and could write a fine hand
I'd write my love a letter that she can understand
I'd send it by the island where them waters overflow
And I'd think on pretty Saro, wherever I go
Farewell, my dear mother, likewise, father too
I'm born for to ramble this country all through
But when I get tired, I'll sit down and cry
And think on pretty Saro with tears in my eye
