Down in the willow garden Where me and my love did meet There we sat a-courtin’ My love dropped off to sleep I had a bottle of burgundy wine Which my true love did not know And there I poisoned that dear little girl Down on the banks below 
I drew my saber through her Which was a bloody knife I threw her into the river Which was a dreadful sight My father often told me That money would set me free If I would murder that dear little girl Whose name was Rose Connally 
Now he sits in his cabin door A-wiping his tear-dimmed eyes A-looking at his own dear son Upon the scaffold high My race is run beneath the sun The Devil is waiting for me For I did murder that dear little girl Whose name was Rose Connally 
file from: www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
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