I came to this country in eighteen-forty-nine
I saw many true loves but never saw mine
I viewed all around me and I am alone
And me a poor soldier and far from my home

It's not the long journey I’m dreading to go
Nor leaving the country for the deads that I owe
There is nothing that grieves me nor troubles my mind
Like leaving pretty Saro my darling behind

I wish I was a poet and could write a fine hand
I'd write my love a letter that she might understand
I'd send it by the island where them waters overflow
I’d think on pretty Saro wherever I go

Farewell, my dear father, likewise mother too
I'm going for to ramble this country all through
And when I get tired I'll sit down and cry
And think on Pretty Saro with tears in my eye