Digital Tradition Mirror

Bonnie Black Bess

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Bonnie Black Bess

When blindness did guide me, I left my abode
When friends proved ungrateful, I took to the road
For to plunder the wealthy and relieve my distress
I bought you to aid me, my bonnie Black Bess.

How nobly you stood, when a coach I have shook
And the gold and the silver from its inmates I took
No poor man did I plunder or ever yet oppress
No widow, no orphan, my bonnie Black Bess

O'er hills and o'er valleys, through glens I rode you
From London to Yorkshire, like lightning you flew
No toll bars could halt you as rivers I breast
In twelve hours you reached it, my bonnie Black Bess.

Hark! the bloodhounds are howling and bugles loud sound
But the likes of my noble will never be found.
To part with you now it does me oppress
But my hand shall not waver, my bonnie Black Bess.

As the ages roll onward, and I'm dead and gone
This tale will be told from father to son
And some they will pity, while others confess
Through friends    I shot you, my bonnie Black Bess

No one will dare say that ingratitude dwelt
In the breast of Dick Turpin, 'twas a vice he never felt
I'll die like a man, and soon be at rest
Then farewell forever, my sweet bonnie Black Bess.

DT #422
Laws L9

Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!

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