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"I came to see your bonny bride,
I came to wish you well,"
Her voice was clear as song is clear;
Clear as a silver bell.
I came to wish you well,"
Her voice was clear as song is clear;
Clear as a silver bell.
"But, Thomas, Lord, is this your bride?
I think she's mighty brown;
Why didn't you marry a fair, bright girl
As ever the sun shone on?
I think she's mighty brown;
Why didn't you marry a fair, bright girl
As ever the sun shone on?
For only the rose and the rose should mate,
Oh, never the hare and the hound,"
And the wine he poured for her crimson mouth
She poured upon the ground.
Oh, never the hare and the hound,"
And the wine he poured for her crimson mouth
She poured upon the ground.
The flow of wine and jest has ceased,
The groom has flushed and paled,
The Brown Girl's lips are moist and red
Where her sharp white teeth assailed.
The groom has flushed and paled,
The Brown Girl's lips are moist and red
Where her sharp white teeth assailed.
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