The Legend of the Spanish Moss
There’s an old, old legend, that’s whispered by Southern folks,
About the lacy Spanish moss that garlands the great oaks.
A lovely princess and her love, upon their wedding day,
Were struck down by a savage foe amidst a bitter fray.
United in death they were buried, so the legends go,
‘Neath the oak’s strong, friendly arms, protected from their foe.
There, as was the custom, they cut the bride’s long hair with love,
And hung it’s shining blackness on the spreading oak above.
Untouched, undisturbed it hung there, for all the world to see,
And with the years, the locks turned gray and spread from tree to tree.