And I prithee, love, turn to me,
For thou art the man that I long for,
And alack! what remedy!
I’ll crown thee with a garland of straw then,
And I’ll marry thee with a rush ring,
My frozen hopes shall thaw then,
And merrily we will sing;
O turn to me my dear love,
And I prithee, love, turn to me,
For thou art the man who alone canst