Poor Ellen Smith Lord and how she was found She was shot through the heart Lying cold on the ground Her clothes were all ragged And her curls on the ground And the blood marked the spot Where poor Ellen was found They picked up her body And off they did go To that lonesome ole graveyard I'll see her no more Well they took up their rifles And hunted me down They found me a loafing Around through the town I got a letter yesterday I read it today Said the flowers on her grave Had all faded away I'm goin' back home Lord I'll stay when I go On poor Ellen's grave Pretty flowers I will sow