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1 |
A fine young man he was indeed |
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And he was mounted on a milk white steed |
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He’s rode he’s rode himself all alone |
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Until he has come to lovely Joan |
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2 |
Good morning to you my lucky maid |
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And twice good morning sir she said |
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He’s tipped her the wink she’s rolled a dark eye |
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Said to himself I’ll be there by and by |
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3 |
Oh don’t you think these stooks of hay |
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A pretty place for us to play |
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So come with me like a sweet young thing |
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And I will give you my golden ring |
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4 |
He’s then took off his ring of gold |
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saying pretty little miss do this behold |
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I’ll freely give it for your maiden head |
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And her cheeks they blushed like the roses red |
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5 |
Give me that ring unto my hand |
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And I shall neither stray nor stand |
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For this will do more good to me |
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Than twenty maiden heads said she |
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6 |
But as he’s made for the stooks of hay |
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She’s jumped on his horse and she’s rode away |
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His gold has gone it was all in vain |
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And young she n’er looked back again |
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7 |
She never felt herself quite safe |
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no not till she came to her true lover’s gate |
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She’d robbed him of his horse and ring |
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And left him to rage in the meadows green |
| Dm C | C Dm | |
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TUNE |
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D|ABCEG|GFDCD|FGFEDC|GGFD|GBCDC|BAGEGE| |
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|FGABCEG|GFDCD| |
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