Henry, Henry, do you love me? 
Do I love you, Mary? 
Oh can you mean to liken me 
To the aspen tree 
Whose leaves do shake and vary 
From white to green 
And back again, 
Shifting and contrary?

Henry, Henry, do you love me, 
Do you love me truly? 
Oh, Mary, must I say again 
My love's a pain, 
A torment most unruly? 
It tosses me 
Like a ship at sea
When the storm rages fully.

Henry, Henry, why do you love me? 
Mary, dear, have pity! 
I swear, of all the girls there are 
Both near and far, 
In country or in city, 
There's none like you, 
So kind, so true, 
So wise, so brave, so pretty.