Early one morning, just as the sun was rising,
I heard a young maid sing in the valley below.
Oh, don’t deceive me, oh, never leave me,
How could you use a poor maiden so?
Oh, he had promised, ever to love me,
Long did I wait him, so faithful, so true.
Oh, don’t deceive me, oh, never leave me,
How could you use a poor maiden so?
He rode at daybreak, far o’er the mountain,
Leaving me weeping in sorrow and woe.
Oh, don’t deceive me, oh, never leave me,
How could you use a poor maiden so?
Soft blows the breezes, over the meadows,
Swift runs the stream by the valley below.
Oh, don’t deceive me, oh, never leave me,
How could you use a poor maiden so?
