O who sits so sadly, and heaves the fond sigh?
Alas! Cried young Dermot, 'tis only poor I,
All under the willow, the willow so green.
My fair one has left me in sorrow to moan,
So here am I come, just to die alone;
No longer fond love shall my bosom enslave,
I'm wearing a garland to hang o'er my grave,
All under the willow, the willow so green.

The fair one you love is, you tell me, untrue,
And here stands poor Shelah, forsaken, like you,
All under the willow, the willow so green.
O take me in sadness to sit by your side,
Your anguish to share, and your sorrow divide;
I'll answer each sigh, and I'll echo each groan,
And 'tis dismal, you know, to be dying alone,
All under the willow, the willow so green.

Then close to each other they sat down to sigh,
Resolving in anguish together to die,
All under the willow, the willow so green,
But he was so comely, and she was so fair,
They somehow forgot all their sorrow and care;
And, thinking it better a while to delay,
They put off their dying, to toy and to play,
All under the willow, the willow so green.