The Bank of The Sweet Primroses
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As I roved out one mid summers morning
To view the fields and to take the air
Twas down by the banks of the sweet primroses
There I beheld a most lovely fair
Says I "fair maid, where can you be a-going?
And what's the occasion of all your grief?
I will make you as happy as any lady
If you will grant me one small relief"
Stand off, stand off, you false deceiver
You are a false deceit for man, 'tis plain
'Tis you that is causing my poor heart to wander
And to give me comfort 'tis all in vein
Now I'll go down to some lonesome valley
Where no man on earth shall e'er me find
Where the pretty small birds do change their voices
And every moment blows blusterous wind