When I was in my prime I flourished like a vine

There came along a false young man come stole the heart of mine

Come stole the heart of mine.



The gardener standing by, three offers he made to me

The pink, the violet and red rose, which I refused all three

Which I refused all three.



The pink snowflower at all, for it fades away to soon

The violet is too pale a hue, I think I'll wait 'til June

I think I'll wait 'til June.



In June the red rose blooms, that's not the flower for me

But then I'll pluck the red rose up and plant a willow tree

And plant a willow tree.



And the willow tree shall weep, and the willow tree shall whine

I wish I was in the young man's arms that stole the heart of mine

That stole the heart of mine.



If I'm spared for one year more, and God should grant me grace

I'll weep a bowl of crystal tears to wash his deceitful face

To wash his deceitful face