And it's green grows the laurel and soft falls the dew And sorry was I with the parting of you. But at our next meeting, I hope we'll prove true And we'll join the green laurel with the violet so blue.
Little said, soonest mended, and a few words are best And they that speak seldom they are surely blessed. I speak from experience, my mind tells me so. If everyone had their own love they'd know where to go.
Over high hills and mountains, through the cold, frost and snow I will follow my darling wherever she goes. And if she has not the clothes for to wear I will work while I am able and I'll give my love share.
I'll go down to yonder valley where the wee birds do fly; Where I will know no one, contented I'll cry; Where notions provoke me to take my own will My own rod's aye the sorest, and it does beat me still.
The anger of my father I don't value one pin. Nor the frowns of my mother for the loss of their son. For since they're hard-hearted and don't pity me I will make myself happy in some strange country.
And it's green grow the rushes and the tops of them small And love is a thing that can conquer us all. It can conquer us all of the high and the low degree Everyone to their mind and fancy, but my darling to me.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
