| There are flowers that are rich, there are flowers that are rare
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| On the banks where the bright water flows
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| But the sweetest of all nature’s flowers to bloom
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| Was my darling, the Blue River Rose.
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| Her eyes were the petals that glisten so bright
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| Her smile was the sunshine so fair
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| And the heart of my beautiful Rose was as true
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| As her tears, like the dew sprinkled there in her hair.
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| In the bright month of June, 'neath that old southern moon
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| At the altar each promise we’d close
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| But old fate played it’s part and soon broke the heart
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| Of my darling, my Blue River Rose.
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| Her father objected, said think of our pride
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| We would never outlive such a crime
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| There are plenty of men who are wealthy and then
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| Would be up in the world such as I.
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| --- Instrumental ---
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| So they sent her away to some far distant land
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| A vacation they told her 'twould be When the leaves start to fall it is then we will call
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| And you may return o’er the sea.
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| A year had passed on, then the postman one morn
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| Brought a letter to me and it read
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| The rose that once bloomed in your garden of love
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| Has all whithered, your darling is dead.
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| Now I’m left all alone, this old world I must roam
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| How I’ll face every care heaven knows
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| But each night by light stream, I’ll still meet her in dreams
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| My darling, my Blue River Rose… |