One morning fair I took the air Down by Blackwater side 'twas in gazing all, all around me The Irish lad I spied
All through the far part of the night We lay in sport and play Till this young man arose and gathered his clothes Saying fare-thee-well today
That's not the promise that you gave to me When first you lay on my breast You could make me believe with your lying tongue That the sun rose in the West
Well then go home to your father's garden Go home and weep your fill And think on your own misfortune That you've brought with your wanton will