The Girl who Loved Too Well - Folk Song

A butcher boy once courted me, he stole away my liberty. He stole my heart with free goodwill, but for all his faults I love him still. There is a Tavern in this town where my true love once sat me down. He takes another girl on his knee, he smiles at her and frowns at me. For don’t you know the reason why? It’s because she got more gold than I. But her gold will flitter and her beauty die, in time poor girl she’ll be as I. To the fields she sped, a mossy pillow for her head. She flung herself down, and no more she spoke, poor girl, she’s dead, and her heart was broke. Dig her a grave, long, wide and deep, place a stone at her head and feet. And in the middle, a turtledove to let the world know she died for love.

Another version: There is the Tavern in the town where my true love once sat me down, now he takes another on his knee, he smiles at her and frowns at me. He smiles at her, and I’ll tell you why, because she has more gold than I. But her gold will go, and her beauty fade, she will die alone, sad and afraid. When my apron strings tied low, he followed me, o’er frost and snow, but now they’re tied under my chin, he passes by, but not comes in. When my baby dear is born, no eye shall see, no lips shall scorn, but take him to my grave, I will with all his faults. I love him still. Oh, dig my grave, both wide and deep, place tombstones at my head and feet, and on my breast, a turtle dove, to show poor girl, she died true love.

Another version of this old folk song! There is an ale house in this town where my true love sits himself down. He takes another girl on his knee, he laughs at her and frowns at me. He smiles on her and I’ll tell you why, it’s because she’s got more gold than I. But her gold will waste and her silver will fly and then she will be as poor as I. Oh dear, I wish my babe was born, set smiling on his daddy‘s knee, and me poor girl, wrapped in cold clay, and green grass growing over me. She plucked the flowers as they grew, until she gathered her apron full, she laid herself down, and no more she spoke. She is dead, poor girl, and her heart is broke. Then dig her grave both wide and deep, place marble stones at her head and feet, and in the middle, a turtledove to let the world know she died for love.