The summer is coming and the grass is green,
And the leaves are budding on every tree;
The ships are sailing upon the sea,
And I'll soon have tidings of my own Johneen.

The night was stormy and dark and cold,
When I lost my darling, my true love bold;
I'll range the valleys and the mountains high,
And I'll never marry until I die.

O Johnny, Johnny I love you well,
I love you better than tongue can tell;
I love my friends and relations too,
But I'd leave them all, love, and go with you.