The winter it is past, and the summer's come at last
And the small birds are singing in the trees.
Now everything is glad, oh but I am very sad
For my true love is parted from me.
The rose upon the briar, by the water running clear
May have charms for the linnet and the bee
Their little love's are blest, ah their little hearts at rest
But my true love is parted me
And all you who are in love, and cannot it remove
I pity all the pains you endure.
For experience lets me know, that your hearts are full of woe
It's a woe that no mortal can cure-
My love is like the sun, and the firament does run
Forever is constant and true.
But his is like the moon, it wanders up and doon
And every month changing anew.
The winter it is past, and the summer comes at last
And the small birds are singing in the trees.
Their little love's are blest, ah their little hearts at rest
For my true love is far away from me.
My true love is far away from me