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 Early one mornin' one mornin'  spring
 To  the birds whistle the nightingales sing
 I  a fair maiden who sweetly did sing
 I'm going to be married next Monday 
 
 How old are you my fair young 
 Here in this valley this valley so 
 How old are you my  young maid,
 I'm goin' to be sixteen next Monday 
 
  sixteen years old, that's too young for to marry
 So take  advice, five years longer to tarry
 For marriage  troubles and sorrows begin
 So put off your wedding for Monday 
 
 You talk like a mad man, a man with  skill
 Two  I've been waiting against my own will
 Now I'm  to have my own way
 And I'm going to be married next  mornin'
 
 And next Monday mornin' the bells  will ring
 And my true love will buy me  gay gold ring
 Also  buy me a new pretty gown
 To wear at my  next Monday mornin'
 
 Next Monday night when I go to  bed
 And I turn round to the man  I've wed
 Around his middle my two arms I will 
 And I wish to my soul it  Monday mornin'.