There you would find
The grass and the flowers all crushed--
Sweetly the nightingale sang in the vale by the wood.
Tandaradei!
When I came up to the meadow my lover was waiting me there.
Ah! what a greeting I had! Gracious Mary, 'tis bliss to me still!
Tandaradei! Did he kiss me, you ask? Look at the red of my lips!
Of sweet flowers of all sorts he made us a bed,
I wager who passes now smiles at the sight,
The roses would still show just where my head lay.