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?"