Page:Rambling boy with the answer (3).pdf/3

 I wish I were a black-bird or thrush,

Singing my notes from bush to bush;

That all the world night plainly see,

I lov'd a man, and he lov'd not me.

Or was I but a little fly,

my love's bosom then would I lie,

When all the world was fast asleep,

In my love's bosom then would I creep.

My love he came late in the night,

Seeking for his sweet-hearts delight;

He ran up stairs, the door he broke,

And found his love all in a rope.

Then he went up and cut her down,

And in her bosom a note was found,

Wrote in shining letters so bright,

Enough a mortal's heart to break.

“Go dig my grave both wide and deep,

And cover it with a marble stone;

And in the middle a turtle dove,

To show the world that I dy'd for love.

'Tis not for gold that I lie here,

Nor yet for jewels, know my dear;

But it is for that sweet Irish boy,

That has caused my sad destiny.