The maid in the garden
What is it makes her to weep and to moan?
I am as a tall sailing ship
Out on the sea
Where only long breezes
Reach out to me
And I’ll set my sails of silver
And I’ll steer towards the sun
And you false love will weep for me
When I’m gone when I’m gone when I’m gone
The maid in the garden how can it be?
Eyes heading seawards but what does she see?
A mast of the tall rowan tree, ropes of fine silk
Decks holy-stoned shining whiter than milk
[Chorus x 3]