My young love said to me,
“My mother won’t mind,
And my father won’t spite you
For your lack of kind.”
Then she stepped away from me,
And this she did say:
“It will not be long, love,
Till our wedding day.”
She stepped away from me
And she moved through the fair,
And fondly I watched her
Move here and move there,
And she went her way homeward
With one star awake
As the swan in the evening
Moves over the lake,
The people were saying
No two were e’er wed
But one has a sorrow
That never was said.
And she smiled as she passed me
With her goods and her gear.
And that was the last
That I saw of my dear.
Last night I lay dreaming
That my true love came in.
So softly she entered
That her feet made no din.
She came close beside me
And this she did say:
“It will not be long, love,
Till our wedding day.”
– Traditional Scottish Folk Song