1. The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree,
Sing all a green willow.
Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,
Sing willow, willow, willow, willow,
Sing willow, willow, willow, willow !
My garland shall be !
Sing all a green willow, willow, willow,
Sing all a green willow, my garland shall be.
2. The fresh streams ran by her, and murmured her moans,
Sing willow, willow, willow.
Her salt tears fell from her, and softened the stones ;
3. Let nobody balme him, his scorn I approve.
Sing willow, willow, willow.
He was born to be fair, I to die for his love.
4. I call'd my love false love, but said he then ?
Sing willow, willow, willow.
If I court more women, you'll couch with more men.