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Down in the Willow garden |
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Where me and my love did meet |
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As we sat a-courtin' |
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My love fell off to sleep |
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I had a bottle of Burgundy wine |
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My love she did not know |
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So I poisoned that dear little girl |
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On the banks below |
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I drew a sabre through her |
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It was a bloody knife |
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I threw her in the river |
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Which was a dreadful sign |
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My father often told me |
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That money would set me free |
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If I would murder that dear little girl |
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Whose name was Rose Connolly |
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My father sits at his cabin door |
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Wiping his tear-dimmed eyes |
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For his only son soon shall walk |
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To yonder scaffold high |
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My race is run, beneath the sun |
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The scaffold now waits for me |
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For I did murder that dear little girl |
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Whose name was Rose Connelly |
