Traditional

On top of old Smokey all covered with snow
I lost my true lover by courting too slow
Now courting's a pleasure and parting's a grief
A false hearted lover is worse than a thief

A thief will but rob you and take what you've saved
But a false hearted lover will send you to the grave
The grave will decay you and turn you to dust
Not one girl in a hundred that a poor girl can trust

Go hitch up your horses and feed them some hay
Then sit down beside me as long as you stay
My horses ain't hungry, they won't eat your hay
So fare thee well, darling, I'll be on my way

On top of old Smokey all covered with snow
I lost my true lover by courting too slow