Sorrel

In a garden of the southland

He found her wandering astray

She came to show him of her beauty

That many passersby don't see



Would you be taking in

Such frail-looking lady

The sadness of her lone display



Dressed in yellow fire burning

The corner dweller on the lane

Sorrow was her only feeling

For she could have no living shame



Take good time

To sow your own true seed

The summers end will bring your leaving



Then he journeyed for a long ways

And she was never in his mind

Came he home to just a memory

For the lady she had died




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