Trip, trip, trip, trip over the grass
Merrily went a laughing lass
The daisies peeped to see her pass
Bright as the Summer morning
Her pitcher she bore until the well
That lay in the lap of a mossy dell
And her voice rang clear as a silver bell
To rival bird songs in singing
But as she passed a hawthorn bush
A lad rushed forth with speed so rash
That down came her pitcher with a crash
And left her all a mourning
Oh Sir what have you done!
Ah me where shall I run!
My pitcher's broke, I had but one
What will my mother say? Oh me.
Hush hush hush hush my pretty maid
Soon your pitcher shall be repaid
Into her hands a gold piece he laid
Bright as the Summer morning
But as he gazed upon her face
Her saw her true and winsome grace
Not gold nor pearls nor priceless lace
(something something something)
Oh Maid what have you done!
Ah me where shall I run !
My heart is broke, I had but one
What will your own heart say?
Merrily went a laughing lass
The daisies peeped to see her pass
Bright as the Summer morning
Her pitcher she bore until the well
That lay in the lap of a mossy dell
And her voice rang clear as a silver bell
To rival bird songs in singing
But as she passed a hawthorn bush
A lad rushed forth with speed so rash
That down came her pitcher with a crash
And left her all a mourning
Oh Sir what have you done!
Ah me where shall I run!
My pitcher's broke, I had but one
What will my mother say? Oh me.
Hush hush hush hush my pretty maid
Soon your pitcher shall be repaid
Into her hands a gold piece he laid
Bright as the Summer morning
But as he gazed upon her face
Her saw her true and winsome grace
Not gold nor pearls nor priceless lace
(something something something)
Oh Maid what have you done!
Ah me where shall I run !
My heart is broke, I had but one
What will your own heart say?