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 sweetly thus sang 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 ruined 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'll claim a guardian angel's charge around my love to fly.
To guard him from all dangers how happy I should 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 in to 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.