| Green grows the laurel, soft falls the dew
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| Sorry was I love when parting from you
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| But at our next meeting I hope you’ll prove true
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| And we’ll join the laurel and the violet so blue
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| I once had a sweetheart but now I have none
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| He’s gone and he’s left me to weep and to mourn
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| He’s gone and he’s left me for other to see
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| I’ll soon find another far better than he
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| He passes my window both early and late
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| And the looks that he gives me would make my heart break
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| The looks that he gives me a thousand would kill
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| Though he hates and detests me I love that lad still
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| I wrote him a letter in red rosy lines
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| He wrote back an answer all twisted and twined
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| Saying keep your love letters and I’ll keep mine
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| You write to your love and I’ll write to mine
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| Now often I wonder why maidens love men
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| And often I wonder why young men love then
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| But from my own knoeledge I will have you know
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| The men are deceivers wherever they go
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| Green grows the laurel, soft falls the dew
|
| Sorry was I love when parting from you
|
| But at our next meeting I hope you’ll prove true
|
| And we’ll join the green laurel and the violet so blue |