As I roved out on a May morning
On a May morning right early
I met my love upon the way
Oh Lord but she was early.
Her boots were black, her stockings white
Her buckles shone like silver
She had a dark and rovin' eye
And her earrings touched her shoulders.
What age are you, my bonnie wee lass?
What age are you, my honey?
Modestly she answered me