The Nightingale

One morning, one morning, one morning in May
I spied a young couple all on the highway
And one was a lady so bright and so fair
And the other was a soldier, a brave volunteer

Good morning, good morning, good morning to thee,
Now where are you going my pretty lady?
I’m going to travel to the banks of the sea
To see the waters gliding, hear the nightingales sing.

They hadn’t been there but an hour or two
Till out of his knapsack a fiddle he drew
The tune that he played caused the vallies to ring.
O harken, says the lady, how the nightingales sing.

Pretty lady, pretty lady, ’tis time to give o’re.
O no, pretty soldier, please play one tune more.
I’d rather hear your fiddle at the touch of one string
Than to see the waters gliding, hear the nightingales sing.


Pretty soldier, pretty soldier, will you marry me?
O no, pretty lady that never can be.
I’ve a wife back in London and children twice three.
Two wives in the army is too many for me.