Dandy---o (2)/Picking lilies
To its own Proper Tune.
DOwn in yon meadow fresh and gay,
Picking lilies the other day,
Picking lilies both red and blue,
I little thought what love can do.
Where love is planted there it grows,
It buds and blossoms like any rose,
It has such a sweet and pleasant smell,
No flower on earth can it excel
There are thousands, thousands in a room,
My love she carries the brightest bloom,
She surely is some chosen one,
I will have her or I will have none.
I saw a ship sailing on the sea,
As deeply loaden as she could be,
But not so deep as in love I am,
I care not whether I sink or swim.
Must I go bound, shall she go free?
Must I love one that loves not me?
Why should I act such a childish part,
As to love one that would break my heart.
I put my hand into a bush,
Thinking the sweetest rose to find;
But I prick’d my finger to the bone,
And left the sweetest rose behind.
If roses be such a prickly flower,
They must be gather’d when they are green
For he that woes an unkind lover,
I’m sure he thrives against the stream.
If my love were dead and gone to rest,
I would think on her that I love best,
I’ll wrap her up in the linen strong,
And think on her when she's dead & gone.