| Come in, come in, you old true love,
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| And chat for awhile with me,
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| For it’s been three quarters of a long year or more,
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| Since I spoke one word to thee.
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| I shan’t come in, I shan’t set down,
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| I ain’t got a moment’s time,
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| And since you are engaged with another true love,
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| Then your heart is no longer mine.
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| When you were mine, my old true love,
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| Then your lead lay on my breast,
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| You could make me believe by the falling of your arm,
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| That the sun rose up in the west.
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| There is many the star shall jingle in the west,
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| There is many the leaf below,
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| There is many the damn that shall lite upon a man,
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| For treating a poor girl so.
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| I wish to the Lord I’d never been born,
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| Or had died when I was young,
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| Then I never would have mourned for my old true love,
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| Nor have courted no other one. |