The Lambs On The Green Hills

The lambs on the green hills, they sport and they play,
and many strawberries grow round the salt sea.
And many strawberries grow round the salt sea
how many’s the ships sails in the ocean.
The bride and bride’s party to church they did go,
the bride she rode foremost, she bears the best show.
But I followed after with my heart full of woe
to see my love wed to another.
The first place I saw her it was in the church stand,
gold ring on her finger and her love by the hand.
Says I, my wee lassie, I will be the man,
although you are wed to another.
The next place I saw her it was on the way home,
I ran on before her, not knowing where to roam.
Says I, my wee lassie, I’ll be by your side,
although you are wed to another.
Stop, stop, says the groomsman, till I speak a word
will venture your life on the point of my sword.
For courting so slowly you’ve lost this fair maid,
so, begone, for you’ll never enjoy her.
Oh, make now my grave, both large, wide, and deep,
and sprinkle it over with flowers so sweet.
And lay me down in it to take my last sleep,
for that’s the best way to forget her.