Brigg Fair


It was on the 5th of August
The weather fine and clear
Unto Brigg Fair I did repair
For love I was inclined

I woke up with the lark in the morning
With my heart so full of glee
On thinking there to meet my dear
Long time I wished to see

I looked over my left shoulder
To see whom I might see
And there I spied my own true love
Come tripping down to me

For its meeting is a pleasure
And parting is a grief
But an unconstant lover
Is worse than any thief

Oh the green leaves they shall wither
And the branches they shall die
If ever I prove false to thee
The girl who loves me

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