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Come all ye fair and tender ladies, |
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Take warning how you court your men. |
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They're like the stars on a summer's mornin' |
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First they'll appear and then they're gone. |
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If I had known before I courted |
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what all his lyin' could have done |
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I'd have locked my heart in a box of golden |
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and never would have courted none. |
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I wish I were a tiny sparrow |
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and I had wings and I could fly. |
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I'd fly away to my own true lover |
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and all he'd ask I would deny. |
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Alas I'm not a tiny sparrow |
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I have not wings nor can I fly |
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And on this earth in grief and sorrow |
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I am bound until I die. |
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Come all ye fair and tender ladies |
|
Take warning how you court your men. |
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They're like the stars on a summer's mornin' |
|
First they'll appear and then they're gone. |
