Lakes Of Pontchartrain

It was one fine March morning I bid New Orleans adieu,

and I took the road to Jackson town, my fortune to renew.

I cursed all foreign mo..ney, no credit could I gain,

till I fell in love with the Creole girl by the lakes of Pontchartrain.


She took me into her Mamma s house, and treated me right well,

the hair upon her shoulders in jet black ringlets fell.

To try and paint her beauty, I knew, it would be in vain,

so handsome was my Creole girl by the lakes of Pontchartrain.


I asked her if she d marry me, she said that ne er could be,

for she had got a lover and he was far at sea.

She said that she would wait for him and true she would remain,

till he d return to his Creole girl on the lakes of Pontchartrain.


It s fare thee well, my Creole girl, I never will see you more,

I won t forget your kindness in the cottage by the shore.

And at each social gathering, a flowing bowl I ll drain,

and I ll drink a health to my Creole girl by the lakes of Pontchartrain.