As I roved out on a May morning

On a May morning right early

I met my love upon the way

Oh Lord but she was early.

Her boots were black, her stockings white

Her buckles shone like silver

She had a dark and rovin' eye

And her earrings touched her shoulders.



What age are you, my bonnie wee lass?

What age are you, my honey?

Modestly she answered me