| As I was a-walking one morning in June
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| To view the gay fields and the meadows in bloom
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| I spied a young female, she appeared like some queen
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| With her costly fine robes round her mantle of green
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| He said, «Lovely fair maid, if you will agree
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| Then we’ll join in wedlock and married we’ll be
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| I’ll dress you in riches, you’ll appear like some queen
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| With your costly fine robes round your mantle of green»
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| She quickly made answer, «May you be excused
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| For I’ll wed with no man, you must be refused
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| To the greenwoods I’ll wander and shun all men too
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| For the lad that I love fell at famed Waterloo»
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| «If you will not marry, tell me your love’s name
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| For I’ve been a soldier, and might know the same»
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| «Draw near to my garment and soon you will see
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| His name I’ve embroidered on my mantle of green»
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| Enrising of her mantle, it’s there I behold
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| His name and his surname in letters of gold
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| Young William O’Reilly it appeared to my view
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| I cried, «He was my comrade at famed Waterloo»
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| Now when that she heard it, the paler she grew
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| She fell in his arms with her heart full of woe
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| «Your heart I have wounded, the truth I declare
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| Here is your love’s token, the gold ring I do wear»
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| «In your father’s garden, beneath a green tree
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| We pledged our true love and long we’d agree»
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| This couple got married, I’ve heard people say
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| She wore a mantle of green on their wedding day |