POLLY VON
(by Peter, Paul and Mary; learned at Teton Tea Parties)
I shall tell of a hunter whose life was undone,
He ran up beside her and saw it was she,
He bore her away to his home by the sea
He wandered all night near the place she was slain,
(from miriam berg's folksong collection)
Of the cruel hand of evil at the setting of the sun,
His arrow was loosed and it sped through the dark,
And his true love was slain as the shaft found its mark.
For she'd her apron wrapped around her and he took her for a swan,
But oh! and alas! it was she, Polly Von.
He turned away his head, for he could not bear ot see,
He lifted her up, and saw that she was dead,
A fountain of tears for his true love he shed.
For she'd her apron wrapped around her and he took her for a swan,
But oh! and alas! it was she, Polly Von.
Crying, Father, oh father, I've murdered poor Polly,
I've shot my true love in the prime of her life,
And I always intended that she be my wife.
But she'd her apron wrapped around her and I took her for a swan,
But oh! and alas! it was she, Polly Von.
He shed bitter tears, but his tears were all in vain,
As he looked o'er the lake a swan glided by,
And the sun slowly sank in the gray of the sky.
For she'd her apron wrapped around her and he took her for a swan,
But oh! and alas! it was she, Polly Von.