O the world keeps running round
O the world keeps running round
With contrariness to me
There's falshood in the sound
Of all I hear and see
My love she's not so pretty
As many others be
Nor talkative nor witty
Yet very dear to me.
2
In the yellow gorse I see her
But that's wi' fancys eye
For I'm longing to be wi' her
While in prison bonds I lie
Furse bushes like to gilleflowers
More yellow are than gold
I've loved her there in summer hours
With joyfulness untold.
3
The furze bush is a prickly tree
With contrariness to me
There's falshood in the sound
Of all I hear and see
My love she's not so pretty
As many others be
Nor talkative nor witty
Yet very dear to me.
2
In the yellow gorse I see her
But that's wi' fancys eye
For I'm longing to be wi' her
While in prison bonds I lie
Furse bushes like to gilleflowers
More yellow are than gold
I've loved her there in summer hours
With joyfulness untold.
3
The furze bush is a prickly tree