Who's At My Bedroom Window?

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H. J. Wehman, Song Publisher, 50 Chatham St., New York.

Who s at My Bedroom Window?

Who is it at my bedroom window?
Who is it mourns so bitterly?
’Tis I, ’tis I, your own true lover,
’Tis I that mourns so bitterly.

Oh! Katy dear, go ask your mother
If you my wedded wife may be;
And if she says no, return and tell me,
Then I no more shall trouble thee.

Oh! Willie dear, I dare not ask her,
For she intends to keep me in;
So, Willie dear, you go and ask her
If I your wedded wife may be.

Oh! Katy dear, go ask your father
If you my wedded wife may be;
And if he says no, return and tell me,
And I no more shall trouble thee.

Oh! Willie dear, I dare not ask him,
For he lies on his bed of rest;
And by his side lays a silver dagger,
To pierce the young man that I love best.

So Willie took that silver dagger
And pierced it through his own true breast;
Saying, adieu to father, adieu to mother,
Adieu sweet Katy, for thee I rest.

So Katy drew that bloody dagger
And pierced it through her lily-white breast;
Saying, adieu to father, adieu to mother,
Adieu sweet Willie, with thee I rest.

So dig my grave both long and deep,
Place a marble stone at my head and feet,
And on my breast a turtle dove,
To show the world I died for love.

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