The Little Maumee As I was a-roving for pleasure one day, In self-recollection as the tine passed away, As I was amusing myself on the grass, Oh, who should I spy but a sweet indian lass.
She stood there beside me and took up my hand, Saying, "You look like a stranger, not one of this land." Says she, "My pale-faced one, if you will agree, I will teach you the language of the little Maumee"
She sat down beside me still holding my hand, Saying, "You look like a stranger, not one of this land." Says she, "My pale-faced one, if you will consent, We'll live here together in peace and content."
" O no, my fair jewel, that never can be, For I have a sweetheart in my own country. O no my fair jewel, that never can be; I'll never forsake her, and I know she won't me."
The last time I saw her was down on the sand, And as my boat passed she gave me her hand, Saying " Wherever you wander, wherever you go, Remember the maiden where the cocoanuts grow."
Now I am back on my own native shore, With friends and relatives around me once more ; Of all that's around me and all that I see, There is none to compare with the little Maumee.
From Folk-Songs of the South, Cox @love filename[ LILMOHE1 RG ===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY