As I Roved Out

Oh, as I roved out one bright summer's morn'
 Down by Blackwaterside
 I'd be gazing on the flowers that did bloom all around
 When a pretty Irish girl I spied
 Oh 'twas red and rosy was her cheeks
 Golden yellow was her hair
 As I clasped her by the lily-white hand
 And I said, "My young sweetheart fair"
 There'd be many a good man's daughter
 Going around from town to town
 There'd be many a good man's daughter with
 Her hair all hanging down
 They'll be rocking the cradles the whole day long
 Singing, "Low-la, low-la, low"
 Was there ever a poor misfortunate girl
 Was as easily led as you?
 Oh, that wasn't the promise that you made to me
 Down by Blackwaterside
 That wasn't the promise you made to me
 When you asked me to be your bride
 That wasn't the promise that you made to me
 When you swore you'd be loyal and true
 When the fishes fly and the seas run dry
 I'll return and I'd marry you