Cornish Feasts and Folk-lore

by M. A. Courtney

Ah, I’ve bin sick whilst you’ve gone,

If you’d bin in the garden you could’ve heard me groan.

Tweedily, tweedily, twee.

An I’m sorry for that, cries he;

An I’m sorry for that, cries he;

Tweedily, tweedily, twee.

Then pluck me an apple from yonder tree,

That will I willingly do, cries he;

That will I willingly do, cries he;

Tweedily, tweedily, twee.