These are the words I know from a song my Dad used to sing.
A father he came home one night,
To find his house without a light;
He went upstairs to go to bed,
When a sudden thought came to his head.
He walked into his daughter's room,
And found her hanging from a beam;
He took his knife and he cut her down,
And on her breast this note he found.
My love was for that sailor boy,
Who travels far across the sea;
Sometimes I've often thought of him,
But I know he never thinks of me.
I wish my baby had been born,
Then all my troubles would be o'er;
But tell my love we'll meet again,
Over yonder on that golden shore.
So dig my grave and dig it deep,
And place white lilies at my feet;
And on my breast a turtle dove,
To show that I have died for love.
We dug her grave and we dug it deep,
We placed white lilies at her feet;
And on her breast a turtle dove,
To show that she had died for love;
To show that she had died for love.