Dark was the night cold blew the winds and heavy fell the rain Young betsy left her own dear home and come not back again She left her widowed mothers side fearing not rain nor cold Although being young and fair to roam yet love had made her bold
At half past ten that weary night beneath the old oak tree She had promised James her own true love and with him she would be She heeded not the drenching rains nor the howling tempest roar But threw her cloak around her and quickly left the door
That night passed on and day break came and betsy dident come home Wich caused her mother for to weep and wonder where she had roamed Till at lenth this widow started out she cried in accents wild Ill search this kingdom over or find my darling child
Three long and dreary weeks was spent in searching the country around But their searching was of no avail young betsy was not found And men to reach her lonely house this weak worn widow tried Till pressed by grief she there lay down and broken hearted died
More nearer to the scene of was the owner of the ground Young squire mccullion rode one day to hunt with all his hounds He rode up hill he rode down dale through gallant company Until by chance they lost the fox beneath the old oak tree
I was there the dogs began to bark to howl and snuff the clay And all the gentlemens whips and horses couldent drive the dogs away Till at lenth the gentlemen gathered around they yelled for pick and spade They dug the ground and there they found this missing mureded maid
Her breast that once was fair and white was black with wounds and blows And from the cuts the blood did gosh and trinkle through her clothes The grave to show the murderous work it was a horrid sight To see the worms set through her eyes that once was blue and bright
And in her breast a knife was plunged more dismal to the sene And on the helve the gentlemen read young james mccullions name I done the deed mccullions cried and soul is food for hell So hide her cold corps from my eyes and I the truth will tell
I rote a marriage promise to which I signed my name This bein on an evil hove(?) I had ruined poor betsy fame I own I loved young betsy with all my valiant heart I had gained her soul victoriously which did implore my part
And every time that we would meet she would say make me your bride But I laughed at all her tears and woes being hardened in my pride She teased till I grew tired just as it seems to me When the devil whispered take her life and then you will be free
The knife that did my dinner cut I plunged into her breast And with the helve I knocked her down I need not tell the rest And ever since that mortal hour she stands before my eyes I think I see her bleeding ghost or hear her dying cries
Then he stooped and on the corps he cast a look of pain He drew a pistol from his breast and fired it through his brain He was buried where he fell on no Christian grave found he And none were found to bless the ground beneath the old oak tree.
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