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?"