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As I roved out one fine May morning, |
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To view the meadows and flowers gay, |
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Who should I spot but my own true lover |
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As she sat by yon willow tree. |
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I took off my hat and I did salute her, |
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I did salute her most courageously. |
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As she turned around, the tears fell from her |
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Saying, "False young man, you've deluded me. |
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And the diamond ring I behold I gave to you, |
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A diamond ring to wear on your right hand. |
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But the vows you made, love, you went and broke them |
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And you wed the lassie who has the land." |
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"If I wed the lassie who has the land, my love, |
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it's that I'll rue to the day I die. |
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When misfortune falls, sure the man may shun it, |
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it was my fault, that I'll not deny. |
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And at night when I go to my bed of slumber |
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The thoughts of my love are in my mind. |
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As I turn around to embrace my darling, |
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instead of gold, sure 'tis brass I find. |
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And I wish the queen would bring home her armies |
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From the West Indies, America and Spain. |
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And every man to his wedded woman |
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Oh in hopes that I might be with thee again." |