On the banks of the roses, my love and I sat down
And I took out my violin to play my love a tune
In the middle of the tune, O she sighed and she said
O Johnny, lovely Johnny, Would you leave me?

I went on the church last Sunday, my love he passed me by,
I knew his mind was changing by the roving of his eye.
I knew his mind was altering to Willie o' Winsbury

My Willie is brave, my Willie is tall
My Willie is wondrous bonnie
If you no more on earth I see,
I can't serve you as you have me.

Then, sighing, said this weary man
As back to his own true love he's torn again

"Oh, Billy, Oh, Billy, don't you do so;
I will go right straight home and let no one know;
For seven long years I will wait upon thee,
For I cannot have a married man until he is free."

It is six long years rolled over, the seventh one passed;
"My old wife is dying,--she is dead, sir, at last."
He's gone down to her room and he dressed in her array,
Like some woman he's gone down to find this young Billy.

I once had a boy and a bonny, bonny boy
And thought to make him my own;
But he loves another much better than me
And has taken his flight and is gone

0Where is my love a-gone with his cheeks like roses?
He's gone across the fields gathering primroses