Oh! I vu'st know'd o' my true love,
As the bright moon up above,
Though her brightness wer my pleasure,
She wer heedless o' my love.
Tho' 'twer all gay to my eyes,
Where her feaeir feaece did arise,
She noo mwore thought upon my thoughts,
Than the high moon in the skies.
Oh! I vu'st heaerd her a-zingen,
As a sweet bird on a tree,
Though her zingen wer my pleasure,
'Twer noo zong she zung to me.
Though her sweet vaice that wer nigh,
Meaede my wild heart to beat high,
She noo mwore thought upon my thoughts,
Than the birds would passers by.
Oh! I vu'st know'd her a-weepen,
As a rain-dimm'd mornen sky,
Though her teaer-draps dimm'd her blushes,
They wer noo draps I could dry.
Ev'ry bright tear that did roll,
Wer a keen pain to my soul,
But noo heaert's pang she did then veel,
Wer vor my words to console.
But the wold times be a-vanish'd,
An' my true love is my bride.
An' her kind heart have a-meaede her.
As an angel at my zide;
I've her best smiles that mid play,
I've her me'th when she is gay,
When her tear-draps be a-rollen,
I can now wipe em away.