I once loved a boy who would come and go
Whenever I made my request;
Till, the truth for to tell, I loved him so well
That I built him a bower in my breast,
In my breast,
A bower of green hope in my breast.

But the times grew so black, that at last he would sail
His fortunes to seek in the West.
Long sorry was I to bid him good-bye;
For I'd built him a bower in my breast,
In my breast,
A bower of green hope in my breast.

O his letters were loving, his letters were long,
That came floating far out of the West.
Then cold, short and few they turned, wirrasthrue!
And goodbye to the bower in my breast,
In my breast,
The  bower of green hope in my breast.