For since my true-love dyed for mee,
'Tis meet my tears should flow.
"And will he never come again?
Will he ne'er come again?
Ah! no, he is dead and laid in his grave,
For ever to remain.
"His cheek was redder than the rose;
The comeliest youth was he?
But he is dead and laid in his grave:
Alas, and woe is me!"