Come all ye fair and tender ladies,
Take warning how you court your men,
They're like the stars on a summer morning,
They first appear and then they're gone.
They'll tell to you some loving story,
They make you think they love you well,
Then away they'll go and court some other,
And leave you there in grief to dwell.
I wish I was a little sparrow,
And I had wings and I could fly,
I'd fly away to my own true lover,
And when he speaks I won't deny.
But I am not no little sparrow,
I have no wings neither can I fly,
I'll sit right down in my grief and sorrow,
And let my troubles pass me by.
Oh love is handsome love is charming,
And love's pleasure while it's new,
But love grows cold as love grows older,
And fades away like morning dew.
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