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