Brigg Fair

It was on the fifth of August and the weather fair and mild
Unto Brigg Fair I did repair, to love I was inclined
I got up with the lark in the morning with my heart so full of glee
Expecting there to meet my dear, long time I’d wished to see
I looked over my left shoulder to see what I could spy
And there I saw my own true love come tripping after me
I took her by the lily-white hand, oh merry was my heart
And now we’re met together I hope we never shall part
For it’s meeting is a pleasur and it’s parting is a grief
And an inconstant lover is worse than any thif
The green leaves they may wither and the branches fade and die
If ever I be false to her, to the girl that loves me