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Arborea
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When I Was on Horseback
When I was on Horseback wasn't I pretty
When I was on Horseback wasn't I fine
Wasn't I pretty when I rode through the valley
with pistol and sword and men by my side
When I was on Horseback wasn't I pretty
When I was on Horseback wasn't I brave
Wasn't I pretty when I rode through the country
and met with my downfall on the twelfth day of May
Its four white horses to carry my coffin
its four white horses to walk by my side
Four white horses, black plumes and red roses
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Birds singing sweetly as we move along
Beat the drums and play the pipes only
Play up the dead march as we go along
and bring me to Richmond and lay me down easy
I am a young Cavalier with God on my side
When I was on Horseback wasn't I pretty
When I was Horseback wasn't I fine
Wasn't I pretty as I rode through the valley
with pistol and sword and men by my side
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