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she's like a swallow that flies so high, |
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she's like the river that never runs dry, |
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she's like the sunshine on the lee shore, |
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she loves her love and love is no more. |
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'tis out in the meadow this fair maid did go, |
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picking the lovely primrose, |
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the more she plucked the more she pulled, |
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until she's got her apron full. |
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she climbed on yonder hill above, |
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to give a rose unto her love, |
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she gave him one, she gave him three, |
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she gave her heart for company. |
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and as they sat on yonder hill, |
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his heart grew hard, so harder still, |
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he has two hearts instead of one, |
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she says, young man what have you done |
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how foolish, foolish you must be, |
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to think i loved no one but thee, |
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this world 's not made for one alone, |
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i take delight in everyone |
