Betsie Brown.

A poem by A. H. Laidlaw

I have loved you all my days,
Betsie Brown,
And I'll never cease to praise
Betsie Brown;
Still must I break love's tie,
To act a patriot part,
But I'll yield thee, as I die,
The last throb of my heart,
Betsie Brown!

For my country let me die,
Betsie Brown,
And never grieve nor cry,
Betsie Brown,
But lay me down to sleep
Where my country's tempests rave,
Where its mountain moss can creep
O'er an humble patriot's grave,
Betsie Brown!

And should my boy, with thee,
Betsie Brown,
By my grave once bend the knee,
Betsie Brown,
Teach him to bleed or die
For his country or his God,
Like him whose ashes lie
Beneath the loving sod,
Betsie Brown!

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