This is from memory so there will be mistakes. I believe it's from Norman Kennedy's. Maybe it's what you're looking for.

The time has come, I can no longer tarry
This morning's tempest I must shortly brave
To cross the moors and high towering mountains
Until I'm in the arms of my own true love.

He rode til he came to his true love's dwelling
And knelt down gently upon a stone
And whispered softly into her window
"Does my own true love lie there alone?"

She lifted her head up from off her down white pillow
She lifted the blankets from off her breast
And raised herself up onto an elbow,
"Who's that disturbing me from my night's rest?"

"'Tis I, 'tis I, 'tis I your own true lover,
Pray open the door, love, and let me in
For I am wet, love, and also weary,
For I am wet, love, unto the skin."

She's raised herself up with the greatest of pleasure,
She's opened the door and she's let him in
And all that night they lay in each other's arms
Until that long night was past and gone.

And when that long night was past and over,
And when the small cocks began to crow
He's shook her hand, aye, they've kissed and parted
He's saddled and bridled and away did go.

... Well there's one line that escapes me right now. I suspect it will come back, or I can probably locate the album. Hope this is what you want.

Rita Ferrara