АS I was a walking one ev'ning in spring, To hear the birds whistle & nightingale sing, I heard a fair maid was making great moan, Saying, I am a poor stranger and far from my own.
I stept up unto her, I made a low gee, I asking her pardon for making so free, I'm afraid sir, you'll undoe me in this desart alone, As I am a poor stranger, and far from my own.
He said my pretty fair maid, you need never fear, I'll do you no harm, there's no body near, For if you believe me, and hear what I say, In this lonely desart you shan't go astray.
The boys of this country are stout roving blades, They take great delight in courting fair maids, They kiss them & clap them & call them their own, And perhaps their own darling lies bleeding at home.
He says my pretty fair maid if you'll go with me, To yonder strange country diversion to see, No more you'll return to your friends back again, For ever I'll adore you my amorous dame.
O no my dear jewel, such things cannot be, Till further acquainted your parents will be, You first must go home and acquaint your dedda, And at your return I'll acquaint my mamma.
I'll build you a castle on yonder green hill, Where neither Duke nor Earl dare it down-pull, And if any one ask you what you do here alone, Tell them you're a stranger & far from your own.
He says my pretty fair maid if you'll go with me, Away to the Parson and marry'd we'll be, We will go to him and get these words said, And you ne'er shall return to your mammy a maid.
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