The Forest Maid

O once I loved a pretty girl and dearly love her still,
I courted her in happiness for two short years or more
And when I think of Lucy it turns my bosom chill
For the happiest of lifes happiness is faded and is o'er.
O fair was Lucy Littlechild and happy as the bee
And sweet was bonny Lucy as the song of forest bird
And the smile upon her red lips was very dear to me
And her tale of love the sweetest that my ear has ever heard.

2

O the flower o' the forest was Lucy Littlechild
There's few could be so dear to me and none could be so fair
So many love the garden flowers I still esteem the wild
And Lucy of the forest is the fairest blossom there
She's fairer than the wild rose that blooms among the thorn
She's dearer to my eye than the bloom upon the brere
Her eye is brighter far than the bonny pearls o' morn
And the name of Lucy Littlechild to me is ever dear.

3

O once I loved a pretty girl — the linnet in its mirth
Was never half so blest as I wi' Lucy Littlechild
The rose o' the creation and the pink o' all the earth
The flower o' all the forest and the best for being wild
O sweet are dews o' morning ere the autumn blows so chil[l]
And sweet are forest flowers i' the awthorns mossy shade
But nothing is so fair and nothing ever will
Bloom like the rosey cheek o' my bonny Forest Maid.
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