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There's a little Rosewood casket |
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Settin' on a marble stand |
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There's a package of love letters |
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Written by my true love's hand |
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Go and bring them to me, brother |
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Come and set upon my bed |
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Lay your head upon my pillow |
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While my aching heart grows dead. |
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Read them gently to me, brother |
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Read them til I fall asleep |
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Fall asleep to wake in heaven |
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Oh, Dear brother, do not weep. |
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Last Sunday I saw her walking |
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With a gentleman by her side |
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And I thought I heard him tell her |
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She was soon to be his bride. |
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When I'm dead and in my coffin |
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And my friends have gathered 'round |
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And my narrow grave is ready |
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In some lonesome churchyard ground. |
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There's a little Rosewood casket |
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Settin' on a marble stand |
|
There's a package of love letters |
|
Written by my true love's hand. |
