As I was a walking one morning in Spring,
to hear the birds whistle and the nightingales sing,
I saw a young damsel, so sweetly sang she:
Down by the Green Bushes
he thinks to meet me.
I stepped up to her and thus I did say:
Why wait you my fair one, so long by the way?
true Love, my true Love, so sweetly sang she,
Down by the Green Bushes he thinks to meet me.
I'll buy you fine beavers
and a fine silken gownd,
I will buy you fine petticoats with the flounce to the ground,
If you will prove loyal and
constant to me
And forsake you own true Love, I'll be married to thee.
I want none of your petticoats and your fine
I never was so poor as to marry for clothes;
But if you will prove loyal and constant to me
my own true Love and get married to thee.
Come let us be going, kind sir, if you please;
Come let us be going from
beneath the green trees.
For my true Love is coming down yonder I see,
Down by the Green Bushes, where he thinks to
And when he came there and he found she was gone,
He stood like some lambkin, forever undone;
gone with some other, and forsaken me,
So adieu to Green Bushes forever, cried he.