George Collins rode out one cold winter night.
He rode through the snow so white
When George Collins returned home again
He was taken down sick and he died.

His little Alice was in her room
Sewing on her silk so fine
When she heard her George was dead
She laid all her silk aside.

She sobbed, she sighed, she mourned and cried
When she entered the chamber of death
George, oh George, you're all my heart.
Now I have nothing left.

Her mother said, Alice, don't weep, don't you mourn
There's other young men just as fine.
Yes, Mother, I know there's other young men,
But none can ever be mine.

The golden sun sinking in the west
Just at the close of the day.
There in his last place of rest
They laid her George away.

Child #85
@love @death
filename[ GEOCOL2
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