And where do I go,

So lowly and soft,

To cabins abroad,

Where history fell;

And how will I know,

That you have not gone,

When you are not here,

To cradle my thoughts?

By moonshiners’ still,

And hollers n’ broke,

The willows shall weep,

For my gone, done love

When he cannot go,

to the long left road;

Where lingered there, I,

‘Til present drove ‘way.