And many many more!

Lyr. Add: WHO IS THAT AT MY FALSE WINDOW?

O, who is that at my fale window
A making of such pitiful moan
O, who can it be but lovely Willie
Jest escaping from a storm.

O, Mary dear, go ask your mother
If my wedding bride that you shall be
If she says no, return and tell me
And I no more, will trouble thee.

O, Willie dear, go court some other
And whisper love all in her ear
My mother says, she cain't do without me
My mother says, she needs me here.

O, Mary dear, go ask your father
If my wedding bride that you shall be
If he says no, return an' tell me
An' I no more will trouble thee.

O, Willie dear, I dare not ask him
He sleeps, he sleeps and takes his rest
In his right hand he holds a weepon
For t' kill the man that I love best.

Then Willie picked up the silver dagger
An' he pierced it through his own white breast
A-dieu, a-dieu, a-dieu kind Mary
Your love Willie, has gone to rest.

Then, Mary picked up the silver dagger
An' she pierced it through her own white breast
A-dieu, a-dieu, a-dieu kind parents
My love Willie and I, have gone to rest.

When their parents came to know this
They strifed both night and day
Says, see what a cruel deed we've done
We've robbed the life of two precious jewels
Whose body now lies mouldering in their tomb.

Max Hunter Coll., Fred High of High, Arkansas, 1953. False Window With Real Audio. Similar to the Canadian Who Is At My Window Weeping (in Contemplator).