Before we lay poor Pearl in her grave, I think we need at least one more. This is version "C" from Brewster, quite different from the others.

Pearl Bryan (Brewster #61C)

Way down in yonder valley
Where the violets fade and bloom,
Our own Pearl Bryan slumbers
In a cold and silent tomb.

She died not broken-hearted,
Nor lingering ill befell,
But in an instant parted
From the one she loved so well.

One night the moon shone brightly,
The stars were shining too,
When to her cottage window
Her jealous lover drew.

"Come, Pearl, and let us wander
In the valley deep and gay;
Come, Pearl, and let us ponder
Upon our wedding day."

Deep down into the valley
He led his love so dear;
She said, "'T is for you only
That I have wandered here.

"The way seems dark and dreary,
And I'm afraid to stay.
Besides, I'm worn and weary;
I would retrace my way."

"Retrace your way? No, never!
These woods you'll roam no more.
No one on earth can save you;
Pearl Bryan, you must die !"

Down on her knees before him
She pleaded for her life;
Deep in her snow-white bosom
He plunged a fatal knife.

"What have I done, Scott Jackson,
That you should take my life?
You know I've always loved you,
And would have been your wife.

"Farewell, my loving parents,
My happy peaceful home;
Farewell, my dear old schoolmates;
With you no more I'll roam.

"Farewell, my dear, dear sister,
My face you'll see no more;
Long, long you'll wait my coming
At the little cottage door."

And while the birds were singing
So gaily all around,
A stranger found Pearl Bryan,
Cold, headless, on the ground.


from Ballads and Songs of Indiana, Paul G. Brewster, 1940, 1981