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Where the walker runs down to the Carson Valley Plain |
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There lived a maiden, Darcy Farrow was her name |
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The daughter of old Dundee and a fair one was she |
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The sweetest flower that bloomed oer the range |
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Her voice was as sweet as the sugar candy |
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Her touch was as soft as a bed of goose down |
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Her eyes shone bright like the pretty lights |
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That shone in the night out of Yerrington town |
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She was courted by Young Vandamere |
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A fine lad was he as I am to hear |
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He gave her silver rings and lacy things |
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And she promised to wed before the snows came that year |
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But her pony did stumble and she did fall |
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Her dyin touched the hearts of us one and all |
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Young Vandy in his pain put a bullet through his brain |
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And we buried them together as the snows began to fall |
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They sing of Darcy Farrow where the Truckee runs through |
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They sing of her beauty in Virginia City too |
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At dusky sundown to her name they drink a round |
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And to young Vandy whose love was true |
