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The Oxford Girl
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I fell in love with an Oxford girl She had a dark and a roving eye But I feeled too ashamed for to marry her Her being so young a maid I went up to her father's house About twelve o'clock one night Asking her if she's take a walk Through the fields and meadows gay I took her by the lily-white hand And I kissed her cheek and chin But I had no thoughts of murdering her Nor in no evil way I catched a stick from out the hedge And I gently knocked her down And blood from that poor innocent girl Came a-trinkling to the ground I catched fast hold of her curly, curly locks And I dragged her through the fields Until we came to a deep riverside Where I gently flung her in Look how she go, look how she floats She's a-drowning on the tide And instead of her having a watery grave She should have been my bride
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