Version composed by Captain Thomas Land

The Murder

The tragedy I now relate
Is of poor Laura Foster's fate
How by a fickle lover she
Was hurried to eternity.

On Thursday morn at early dawn
To meet her groom she hastened on,
For soon she thought a bride to be
Which filled her heart with ecstasy.

Her youthful heart no sorrow knew
She fancied all mankind were true.
And thus she gaily passed along
Humming at times a favorite song.

Ere sun declined toward the west
She met her groom and his vile Guest;
In forest wild they three retreat
And look for Parson there to meet.

Soon night came on with darkness drear
Yet still poor Laura felt no fear.
She thought her lover kind and true
Believed that he'd protect her too.

Confidingly upon his breast
She laid her head to take some rest;
But soon poor Laura felt a smart,
A deadly dagger pierced her heart.

No shrieks were heard by neighbors round
Who were in the bed sleeping sound.
None heard the shrieks so loud and shrill,
Save those who did poor Laura kill.

The murder done they her conceal
And vow they'll never reveal
To dig the grave they now proceed
But in the darkness make no speed.

But dawn appears, the grave not done,
Back to their hiding place they run,
And there in silence wait till night
To put poor Laura out of sight.

The grave was short and narrow, too.
But in it they poor Laura threw,
And covered with some leaves and clay,
And hastened home at break of day.

The Search

Since Laura left at break of day
Two days and nights had passed away;
The parents now in sorrow wild
Set in search of their lost child.

In copse and glen, in wood and plain
They search for her but all in vain;
With aching hearts and pensive moans,
They call for her in mournful tones.

With sad forebodings for her fate
To friends her absence they relate,
With many friends all anxious, too,
Again their search they do renew.

They searched for her in swamps and bogs,
In creeks and caves, and hollow logs;
In copse and glen, and bramble too;
But still no trace of her they view.

At last upon a ridge they found
Some blood all mingled with the ground.
The sight to all seemed very clear
That Laura had been murdered there.

Long for her grave they search in vain.
At length they meet to search again,
Where stately pines and ivies wave,
At last they found poor Laura's grave.

The Resurrection and Inquest

The grave was found as we have seen
Mid stately pines and ivies green.
The Coroner and Jury too,
Assembled this sad sight to view.

They take away the leaves and clay
Which from her lifeless body lay.
They from the grave her body take
And close examination make.

When soon the bloody wound they spied,
Twas where the deadly dagger pierced her side;
The inquest held, this hapless maid
Was then into her coffin laid.

The Jury made the verdict plain,
Which was, poor Laura had been slain;
Some ruthless fiend had struck the blow,
Which laid poor luckless Laura low.

Then in the church yard her they lay
No more to rise till judgment day
Then robed in white we trust she'd rise
To meet her Saviour in the skies.

Source:
West, John Foster. The Ballad of Tom Dula: The Documented Story Behind the Murder of Laura Foster and the Trials and Execution of Tom Dula. Durham, NC: Moore Publishing, 1970.

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