Traditional, performed by Brocelïande


One morning fair I took the air
Down by Blackwaterside
'Twas gazing all around me
An Irish lad I spied

All in the first part of the night
We lay in sport and play
Then this young man arose and he gathered his clothes
Saying, "Fare thee well today"

"That's not the promise that you gave to me
When the first you lay on my breast
You could make me believe with your lying tongue
That the sun rose in the west"

Go home, go home, to your father's garden
Go home and weep your fill
And think on your own misfortune
Which you wrought with your wanton will

There's not a girl in this whole wide world
As easily led as I
And the fishes will fly and the seas will run dry
When we'll marry you and I


Last updated 01/05/21 / Steve Macdonald