George Collins

George Collins drove home one cold winter’s night,
George Collins drove home so fine,
George Collins drove home one cold winter’s night,
Was taken sick and he died.

His sweet little Nell in yonders room
Sat sewing her silks so fine,
But when she heard that poor George was dead,
She laid her silks aside.

She followed him up, she followed him down,
She followed him to the grave;
And there she sat on a cold, cold stone,
She wept, she mourned, and she prayed.

“Set down the coffin, take off the lid,
Lay back the linens so fine,
So I might kiss his cold, cold lips,
For I know that he’ll never kiss mine.”

“Oh daughter, oh daughter, why do you weep?
There’s more young men than one.”
“O mother, O mother, poor George has my heart,
And His day on earth it is done.”

Look down, look down that long, lonesome road,
Hang down your head and cry;
The best of friend are sure to part,
So why not you and I?

Oh, don’t you see that snow white dove,
He flies from pine to pine;
Just mourning for his own true love,
The way I mourn for mine.

What’s This?

Folk Songs You Never Sang in Grade School is one folk musician's effort to document, honor and share a collection of folk songs I love and my personal history with them through research, essays, and performance. Read the essays here and watch this site for future performances.

What’s New?

Tara McGovern and I, joined by uilleann piper Jon Cooper, have completed the album version of Folk Songs You Never Sang in Grade School. For a taste of the CD listen to "Let No Man Steal Your Thyme" and "I Ride an Old Paint" with "Midnight on the Water."

I Ride an Old Paint/Midnight on the Water
Let No Man Steal Your Thyme