Classic Poem

There was three worms on yonder hill,
They neither could not hear nor see.
I wish I'd been but one of them
When first I gained my liberty.

Then a brisk young lad came a-courting me,
He stole away my liberty.
He stole it away with a free good will,
He've a-got it now and he'll keep it still.

Oh for once I wore my apron strings low,
My love followed me through frost and snow,
But now they're almost up to my chin
My love passed by and say nothing.

Now there is an alehouse in this town
Where my false love go and sit himself down
And takes strange girls all on his knee
Because they have more gold than me.

So gold will waste and beauty pass
And she will come like me at last.
That mortal man when he served me so
When I was down where the daisies grow.

Now there is a flower I heard them say
Would ease my heart both night and day.
I wish to God that flower I could find
That would case my heart and my troubled mind.

Then out in the mead the poor girl run
To cull those flowers fast as they sprung.
'Twas some she picked, some she pulled
Till at length she gained her apron full.

On these sweet flowers she made her bed,
A stony pillow for her head.
Then down she lay and never more spoke,
And now her tender heart is broke.

Now she is dead and her corpse is cold,
I met her false lover and him I told.
Come and walk after your heart's delight,
She will walk with you both day and night.

So dig her a grave long, wide and deep
And strow it over with flowers sweet.
Lay on her breast a turtle dove
That folks may see that she died for love.