ARLY one morning, just as the sun was rising,
I heard a maid sing in the valley below:
“Oh, don’t deceive me! oh, never leave me!
How could you use a poor maiden so?
“Oh, gay is the garland and fresh are the roses
I’ve culled from the garden to bind up my brow.
Oh, don’t deceive me! oh, do not leave me!
How could you use a poor maiden so?
“Remember the vows you made to your Mary;
Remember the bow’r where you vowed to be true.
Oh, don’t deceive me! oh, do not leave me!
How could you use a poor maiden so?”
Thus sang the poor maiden, her sorrows bewailing;
Thus sang the poor maid in the valley below:
“Oh, don’t deceive me! oh, never leave me!
How could you use a poor maiden so?”
