Awake! Awake! You drowsy sleeper, Awake! Awake! It���s almost day; How can you lie and sleep and slumber, And your true love going far away. 
 Say, my love, go ask your mother, If you my bride, my bride shal be; And if she says, ���No��� love come and tell me, It will be the last time I���ll bother thee. 
 I���ll not go ask my mother, For she lies on her bed at rest; And in her hands she holds a paper That speaks the most of my distress. 
 Say, my love, go ask your father, If you my bride, my bride shall be; And if she says, ���No��� love come and tell me, It will be the last time I���ll bother thee. 
 I will not go ask my father, For he lies on his bed at rest; And in his hands he holds a weapon, To kill the man that I love best. 
 I���ll go down in some lone valley, And spend my weeks, my months, my many years, And I���ll eat nothing but green willow, And I���ll drink nothing but my tears. 
 Then come back, come back, my own true lover, Come back, come back in grief cried she, And I���ll forsake both father and mother, And I���ll cry, love, and pity thee. 
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