source: “The Maine Woods Songster” edited by Phillips Barry, 1939
On last Monday evening as I went to the ball
I met my own Jamie so proper and tall
I asked him to go with me, a piece down the road
I’d show him my father’s garden, and where I abode
There’s a tree in father’s garden lovely Jamie said she
Where young men and maidens they wait upon me
Where young men and maidens are enjoying their rest
Meet me there, lovely Jamie, you’re the boy I love best
My cruel cruel father in ambush did lay
And hearing the words that my Jamie did say
And hearing the words as for my love he did sue
With a pointed weapon he pierced my love through
Oh cruel cruel father, since this is your will
The innocent blood of my Jamie to spill
I’ll go now to his grave where he lies so low
May the heavens shine round him he’s my own darling boy
Oh green grow the rushes and tall grow the trees
And love it is waiting, it waits for you and me
And love it is a hard thing, it conquers the best
In heaven I hope to meet him, it’s there I’ll find rest.