come all ye fair and tender ladies
take warning how you court young men
theyre like a star on summer morning
they first appear and then theyre gone theyll tell to you some loving story
and make you think they love you so well
then away theyll go and court some other
and leave you there in grief to dwell i wish i was on some tall mountain
where the ivy rocks are black as ink
id write a letter to my lost true lover
whose cheeks are like the morning pink for love is handsome, love is charming
and love is pretty while its new
but love grows cold as love grows old
and fades away like the mornin dew
and fades away like the mornin dew
