You ask what makes this darkey weep,
Why him like others am not gay.
What makes the tears roll down his cheek,
From early dawn till close of day.
The story darkys, you shall hear,
For fresh it in my memory dwell,
It will cause you all to shed a tear,
Over the grave of my poor Katy Wells, Chorus-
When the wild birds were singing sweetly in the morning,
when the myrtle and the ivy were in bloom,
When the sun over the hill tops was dawning
It was there I laid her in the tomb.
I never shall forget that day,
When we together roamed the dell,
I kissed her cheek and named the day,
That I should marry Katy Wells.
When death came in that cabin door,
And stole from me my joy and pride,
And when I found she was no more,
I laid my banjo down and cried, Chorus-
Oftimes I wish that I were dead,
And laid beside her in the tomb,
The sorrow that bowed down my head,
Is as dark to me as the midnight gloom.
The springtime has no charm for me,
The flowers are blooming in the dell,
Her from I never more shall see,
Is the form of my poor Katy Wells, Chorus-
(Song ballad written by Miss Linza Joyner for Miss Ella Andrews)