There are many songs about a young man without land (Pretty Saro) or without money or without a decent trade (Pretty Susan, Rose of Ardee) who can't forget the gal who refused him for one with the wherewithall. There are parallels with Pretty Susan (Susie), an old English song which made it to North America as Pretty Susie (in the DT, from Brown) Here is Pretty Saro from Randolph, coll. in MO.
(Note: place of collection, in the period after WWI may have no relation to the place where the song was originally sung).

PRETTY SARO

Way down in Lowless Valley,
In some lonesome place,
Where the small birds doth whistle,
Their notes do increase,
Whilst thinkin' on pretty Saro,
Her ways so complete,
I want no better passtime
Then her to be with.

But my love she doth slight me,
Because I am pore,
She says I'm not worthy
To enter her door,
But this she'll repent of
When all is in vain,
For love is a torment
An' a heart-breakin' thing.

My love she won't have me
An' I understand,
She wants some free-holder,
But I got no land.
But I could maintain her
On silver and gold,
An' many a fine thing
My love's house should hold.

I wish I was a lark
An' had wings an' could fly,
Away to my love's house
This night I'd draw nigh.
An' in some little window
All day I would cry,
An' all night in her white arms
I'd lay down an' die.

Sung by Mrs. Linnie Bullard, MO, 1926; with music.
Randolph, Ozark Folksongs, 1980, vol. 4, pp. 222-224.
A fragment in Randolph uses the name Molly.

Randolph separates "In Eighteen-forty-nine" as a song made up of scraps and fragments, including "Pretty Saro," with echoes from "Jack O'Diamonds," "Farewell, Sweet Mary" and "Rabble Soldier."

A similar story but told very differently is found in "Pretty Susan," from England (orig. Ireland?).

PRETTY SUSAN

When first from sea I landed I had a roving mind,
Undaunted I rambled my true love to find,
When I met pretty Susan with her cheeks like a rose
And her bosom more fairer than lilies that grows.

Her keen eyes did glitter as the bright stars of night
And the robes she was wearing was costly and white,
Her bare neck was shaded with her long raven hair,
They call her pretty Susan, the Pride of Kildare.

A Long time I courted till I'd wasted my store,
Her love turned to hatred because I was poor,
She said I love another whose fortune I'll share,
So begone from pretty Susan, the Pride of Kildare.

O my heart asked next morning as I lonely did stray
I espied pretty Susan with a young lord so gay,
And as I passed by them with my mind full of care,
I sigh'd for pretty Susan the Pride of Kildare.

Once more on the ocean I resolved for to go,
And was bound for the east with my heart full of woe,
There I beheld ladies in jewels so rare,
But none like pretty Susan, the Pride of Kildare.

Some days I am jovial, sometimes I am sad,
Since my love is courted by some other lad,
And since we are at a distance no more I'll despair,
And my blessings on my Susan the Pride of Kildare.

Bodelian, Harding B 17(246b) and Johnson Ballads 1935; printed between 1827 and 1847. Wheeler, printer, Whittle St. Oldham.

Pretty Susie, The Pride of Kildare, from Brown, in the DT, from North Carolina, is quite similar.