Monday Morning

Early one morning, one morning in Spring
To hear the birds whistle and the nightingales sing
I met a fair maiden who sweetly did sing
I’m going to be married next Monday morning
How old are you, my fair pretty maid,
Here in this valley, this valley so green?
How old are you, my fair pretty maid
I’m going to be 16 next Monday morning
Now 16 years old that’s too young for to marry
So, take my advice five years longer to tarry
For marriage brings troubles and sorrows begin
So, put off your wedding for Monday morning
Now, you speak like mad woman, woman with no skill
Three years I’ve been waiting against my own will
And now I’m determined to have my own way
And I’m going to be married next Monday morning
And next Monday morning the bells they will ring
My true love will buy me a gay golden ring
And also he’ll buy me a new pretty gown
For to wear at my wedding next Monday morning
And next Monday night when I go to my bed
And I turn me around to the man that I’ve wed
Around his middle my two arms I will fling
And I wish to myself it was Monday morning.