| In London city where I did dwell | 
| A butcher boy, I loved right well | 
| He courted me, my life away | 
| But now with me, he will not stay | 
| I wish, I wish, I wish in vain | 
| I wish I was a maid again | 
| A maid again I ne’er will be | 
| 'Till cherries grow on an ivy tree | 
| I wish my baby it was born | 
| And smiling on its daddy’s knee | 
| And me poor girl to be dead and gone | 
| With the long green grass growing over me | 
| She went upstairs to go to bed | 
| And calling to her mother said | 
| «Give me a chair 'till I sit down | 
| And a pen and ink 'till I write down» | 
| At every word she dropped a tear | 
| And at every line cried «Willie dear | 
| Oh, what a foolish girl was I | 
| To be led astray by a butcher boy» | 
| He went upstairs and the door he broke | 
| He found her hanging from a rope | 
| He took his knife and he cut her down | 
| And in her pocket, these words he found | 
| Oh, make my grave large, wide and deep | 
| Put a marble stone at my head and feet | 
| And in the middle, a turtle dove | 
| That the world may know, that I died for love |