Down In The Willow

Down in the willow garden where me and my love did meet
 There we sat a-courting my love fell off to sleep
 I had a bottle of burgundy wine which my true love did not know
 And there I poisoned that dear little girl down by the banks below
 I drew my saber through her which was a bloody knife
 I threw her in the river which was an awful sight
 My father often told me that money would set me free
 If I would murder that dear little miss whose name was Rose Connelly
 Now he sits by his old cabin door a wiping his tear-brimmed eyes
 Mourning for his only son out on the scaffold high
 My race is run beneath the sun the devil is waiting for me
 For I did murder that dear little girl whose name was Rose Connelly