Traditional
Bonny Irish Boy
Woods
As I roved out one morning
All in the blooming spring
I overheard a damsel
Most grievously sing -
Saying cruel were my parents
Who did me sore annoy
They would not let me tarry with my bonny Irish boy
His hair is like the chestnut brown
His eyes as black as sloes;
He is meek in his behaviour
Wherever that he goes
He is well-sized, both neat and wise
Like a maiden's chastity
If I had my will I would be still
In my love's company
If I had all the riches now
That great men have in store
'Tis freely I'd bestow them
On the man that I adore;
His beauty so entangled me
I never can deny
In the arms of my labouring boy
I mean to live and die