One morning, one morning, one morning in May,
I spied a fair couple all on the highway;
And one was a lady so bright and so fair;
The other was a soldier, a brave volunteer.

Good morning, good morning, good morning to thee.
Now where are you going, my pretty lady?
I'm going to travel to the banks of the sea
To see the waters gliding, hear the nightingales sing.

They hadn't been there but an hour or two
Till out of his knapsack his fiddle he drew.
The tune that he played caused the valleys to ring.
O hearken, says the lady, how the nightingales sing.

Pretty lady, pretty lady, 'tis time to give o'er.
O no, pretty soldier, please play one tune more.
I'd rather hear your fiddle one touch of the string
Than see the waters gliding, hear the nightingales sing.

Pretty soldier, pretty soldier, will you marry me?
O no, pretty lady that never can be.
I've a wife back in London and children twice three.
Two wives in the army is too many for me.