Early one morning, just as the sun was rising,

I heard a maid singing in the valley below;

"O don't deceive me,

O do not leave me!

How could you use a poor maiden so?"



"O gay is the garland, fresh are the roses

I've culled from the garden to bind on thy brow.

O don't deceive me,

O do not leave me!

How could you use a poor maiden so?"





"Remember the vows that you made to your Mary,

Remember the bow'r where you vow'd to be true;

O don't deceive me,

O never leave me!

How could you use a poor maiden so?"





Thus sung the poor maiden, her sorrow bewailing,

Thus sung the poos maiden in the valley below;

"O don't deceive me,

O do not leave me!

How could you use a poor maiden so?"