She was a lass from the low country   And he was a lord of high degree   And she loved his lordship so tenderly      Sing sorrow, sing sorrow   And she sleeps in the valley    Where the wildflowers nod   Nobody knows she loved him   But herself and God      One day when the show was on the mead   He passed her by on a milk white steed   She waited as he passed but he paid no heed      Sing sorrow, sing sorrow   And she sleeps in the valley   Where the wildflowers nod   Nobody knows she loved him   But herself and God      So if you be a lass from the low country   Don't love no lord of high degree   For they ain't got no heart or sympathy      Sing sorrow, sing sorrow   And you sleep in the valley   Where the wildflowers nod   Nobody knows you loved him   But yourself and God