Page:Songs of Old Canada.djvu/40



my aunt's there groweth

A wood all greenery;

The nightingale's song filleth

Its glades with melodie.

Gai lon la, gai le rosier

Du joli mois de mai.

The nightingale's song filleth

Its glades with melodie;

He sings for maids whose beauty

No lover holds in fee.

He sings for maids whose beauty

No lover holds in fee;

For me he singeth never,

For my True-love loves me.