One morning very early, one morning in the spring, 
I heard a maid in Bedlam, who mournfully did sing; 
Her chains she rattled on her hands, while sweetily thus sung she:
«I love my love, because I know my love loves me. 

«Oh, cruel were his parents, who sent my love to sea! 
And cruel, cruel was the ship that bore my love from me; 
Yet I love his parents, since they're his, although they've ruin'd me; 
And I love my love, because I know my love loves me. 

«Oh, should it please the pitying powers to call me to the sky, 
I'd claim a guardian angel's charge, around my love to fly; 
To guard him from all dangers, how happy should I be; 
For I love my love, because I know my love loves me. 

«I'll make a strawy garland, I'll make it wondrous fine, 
With roses, lilies, daisies, I'll mix the eglantine; 
And I'll present it to my love, when he returns from sea; 
For I love my love, because I know my love loves me. 

«Oh, if I were a little bird, to build upon his breast; 
Or if I were a nightingale to sing my love to rest! 
To gaze upon his lovely eyes all my reward should be; 
For I love my love, because I know my love loves me. 

«Oh, if I were an eagle, to soar into the sky! 
I'd gaze around with piercing eyes, where I my love might spy; 
But, ah! unhappy maiden, that love you ne'er shall see;
Yet I love my love, because I know my love loves me.»