Young Freda Bolt

Amid the Blue Ridge Mountains

There lived a maiden fair

Whose life was pure as heaven

Whose life was free from care

She dreamed of love and romance

With heart so glad and free

No gloom within the future

Young Freda Bolt could see

Nearby lived Beauron Harmon

A boy she loved so well

And of these two young lovers

A story I will tell

Twas late one Thursday evening

The stars were shinning dim

That Beauron called his sweetheart

To come and go with him

He told her on tomorrow

That they would surely wed

But little was she thinking

He'd take her life instead

They motored to Bent Mountain

A place so dark and lone

And there her form so helpless

He placed beneath a stone

Away from home and mother

That Freda loved so well

The bitter pain and anguish

No mortal tongue can tell

Through tears she pled for mercy

Though he denied her cry

Young Harmon left his sweetheart

In agony to die

We think that God in heaven

Must surely've heard her cry

And sent a band of angels

To linger very nigh

And bare her spirit over

To yonder's happy shore

Where dying comes no never

And parting is no more

Recorded 6/8/38 - Charlotte, NC