Hobbit Shawl
Ol’ farmer Proudfoot
He had many daughters
But none so sweet
As the youngest one
Them lads came courting
With the finest flowers
But she just laughed
She would have no-one
For she was dancing
And now she was singing
Her hair the colour
Of the leaves of fall
Her dress was common
But upon her shoulders
Her dearest garment
An old yellow shawl
An early morning
As the spring was coming
She danced around
When a lad came round
A gift he gave her
One that won her over
A brand new shawl
Yellow as the sun
Now they were dancing
And now they were singing
Their hair the colour
Of the leaves of fall
Her dress was common
But upon her shoulders
Her dearest garment
A new yellow shawl
Her dearest garment
A new yellow shawl
More songs in the Grand Book of Songs and Poetry
