My young love said to me,
“My mother won’t mind,
And my father won’t slight you,
For your lack of kind,”
And she stepped away from me,
And this she did say,
“It will not be long, love,
Till our wedding day.”

Then she turned away from me,
And she moved through the fair.
So fondly I watched her
Move here and move there,
And then she went homeward
With one star awake,
Like the swan in the evening
Moves over the lake.

The people were saying,
No two were e’er wed,
But one had a sorrow
That never was said.
I smiled as she passed me,
With her goods and her gear,
And that was the last that
I saw of my dear.

Last night she came to me,
My dead love came in.
So softly she came
That her feet made no din,
And she laid her hand on me
And this she did say,
“It will not be long, love,
Till our wedding day.”