One evening fair I took the air Down by blackwaterside 'twas gazing all around me When the irish lad I spied
All through the first part of that night We did lie in sport and play, When 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 upon your own misfortune Which you bought with your wanton will.