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(written by Merritt Herring in 1964 as a counter to murder ballads)

(staff with melody line)

A sweet young thing with eyes of blue
And hair of an amber hue
Learned one day to her dismay
That her lover was being untrue
    She straightway tripped across the moor
    Though her feet in the briars were tanglin'
    Walked up to her true love's door,
    Got a rope, walked in and strangled him.

(from miriam berg's folksong collection)