I just posted to the earlier Ponchartrain thread thinking I was here at this one. That post relates to the Illinois version of LOP that I posted some of there.-----Please keep in mind that a major battle of the Civil War was fought at Cairo, Illinois. The guy could've been mustered out of the army there at the southern tip of Illinois where the Ohio River flows into the Mississippi River.---That is a strategic spot where control of the riverwas important for the North. It was way to cut off stuff from getting to the South. Even if he deserted after just "having had enough"-------it's a wonderful song that hits folks hard on the old nostalgia button. Once they know about it, they want to make it their own----and that's in the best aspects of the good old ORAL TRADITION. We in America had no "lords or ladies" supposedly, but we sure did sing about those--especially in the Appalachian hills. So take it for your own. That's pretty cool to my way o' thinking.

Hell, I'll just post it here too---might as well.(Please note "THE KIND CARESS" in the last verse. More was going on than meets the ear here. Check out the film Shakespeare In Love for a parallel love tale.

It was on the 3rd of January I bid Cairo town adieu,
Travelled down the river road my fortune to pursue,
No money in my pocket and no credit could I gain,
And my mind it turned with longing to the lakes of Ponchartrain.

I swung on board of an old boxcar just as the day did dawn,
I rode the rods from sun to sun and I lit down again,
And as the shades of eveninf fell the lowground I did gain,
And there I I met with a Creole girl on the shores of Ponchartrain.

I said, "My lovely Creole girl, my money does me no good,
If it were not for the alligators I'd sleep out in the woods,"
"You are welcome here kind stanger though our cottage is quite plain,
We never put a stranger out to the wilds of Ponchartrain."

She took me into her mother's house and she treated me right well,
Her hair hung down in ringlets and on her shoulders fell,
I tried to paint her beauty but alas it was in vain,
So handsome was my Creole girl by the shores of Ponchartrain.

I asked her if she would marry me and she said that it never could be,
She said that she had a lover dear and he was out to sea,
She said that she had a lover dear and there/true she would remain,
'til he returned to to claim his bride on the shores of Ponchartrain.

So it's here's to you my Creole girl who I ne'er shall see no more,
I'll ne'er forget your kind caress in that cottage by the shore,
And at each social gathering a flowing bowl I'll drain,
And I'll drink a health to the Creole girl by the shores/lakes of Ponchartrain.

Art Thieme