THE BALLAD OF THE SERVING MAID
H. B. Johnston,
Oh Betsy, Oh Betsy, a lady fair
That lately came from Winton there
A hired servant offered to be,
Which suited Betsy to her degree.
There was a rich merchant who lived in town,
He had a son of a renown,
And Betsy being so beautiful and fair,
She drew his heart all in a snare.
One Sunday evening he was heard to tell,
“Oh Betsy, Oh Betsy, I love you well;
I love you as I love my life
And intend that you shall be my wife.”
There was an old lady in the other room laid
A-hearing every word they said,
And she determined all in her mind
To disappoint them in their design.
The very next morning this old woman arose,
Saying “Betsy, Oh Betsy, put on your clothes,
For you must go to town with me
To wait on me two days or three.”
She dressed herself in rich array
And with her mistress she rode away;
There was a ship that lay at the sound,
And to Virginia poor Betsy was bound.
The old lady then quickly back home she came,
Returned at once to her son again.
“You are welcome home, dear mother,” he said,
But where is Betsy, your waiting maid?”
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