The Banks of Ponchartrain

It was on one bright March morning, I bid New Orleans adieu
I took the road to Jackson Town, my fortune to renew
I cursed all foreign money, no credit could I gain
Which filled my heart with longing for the banks of Ponchartrain

I stepped onto a railroad car beneath the morning sun
I rode the rods till evening and I laid me down again
All strangers here, no friends I found, till a dark girl towards me came
I fell in love with a Creole girl at the banks of Ponchartrain

I said, “My pretty Creole girl, my money here’s no good
And if it weren’t for the alligators, I would sleep out in the woods”
“You’re welcome here, kind stranger, our house is very plain
And we never turned a stranger out on the banks of Ponchartrain”

She took me into her mammy’s house and treated me right well
Her hair upon her shoulders in jet black ringlets fell
To try to paint her beauty, I’m sure it would be in vain
So pretty was my Creole girl at the banks of Ponchartrain

I asked her if she’d marry me, she said this could never be
For she had got another and he was far at sea
She said that she would wait for him and true she would remain
Till he returned to his Creole girl at the banks of Ponchartrain

“So fare thee well, my bonny own lass, I’ll never see you no more
But I’ll never forget your kindness in this cottage at the shore
And at each social gathering, a flowing glass I’ll raise
And I’ll drink a health to my Creole girl at the banks of Ponchartrain”