The Lakes of Ponchartrain
(Traditional)

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This song is traditional and thought to have been composed by an Irish immigrant shortly after the American civil war.

Irish immigrants landed on the east coast of the United States in considerable numbers during the 1840s and 1850s. Many headed West working on the railroads and as farmhands.

Over 200,000 Irish fought in the American Civil War and it is hardly surprising that songs with Irish influence from this period are common. "The lakes of Ponchartrain"  traveled the English speaking world, and was soon adopted back home in Ireland. It tells the story of a tired traveler in the Southern States who, finding his confederate money worthless, is taken in by a beautiful Creole girl whom he meets on the lakes of Ponchartrain.

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T'was on one bright March morning, I bid New Orleans adieu
I took the road to Jackson, my fortune to renew
I cursed all foreign money, no credit could I gain
Which filled my heart with longing for the lakes of Ponchartrain

I stepped on board of a railroad car beneath the morning sun
I rode the rods till evening and I laid me down again
All strangers, they're no friends to me, till a dark girl towards me came
I fell in love with a Creole girl by the lakes of Ponchartrain

I said, "Me pretty Creole girl, me money's here 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 handsome was my Creole girl by the lakes of Ponchartrain

I asked her if she'd marry me, she said this could never be
For she had got a lover and he was far ar sea
She said that she would wait for him and true she would remain
Till he returned to his Creole girl by the lakes of Ponchartrain

"So fare thee well, my bonny own girl, I never may see you more
But I'll ne'er forget your kindness in this cottage by the shore
And at each social gathering, a flowing glass I'll drain
And I'll drink a health to me Creole girl by the lakes of Ponchartrain"

(Traditional)

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