The Gardener

Proud Mary stands in her bower door

Straight as a willow wand

And by there came a gardener child

With a red rose in his hand

And by there came a gardener child

With a red rose in his hand

O lady, can you fancy me

For to be my bride?

Among the flowers in my garden

I'll shape a weed for thee

Among the flowers in my garden

I'll shape a weed for thee

The lily white shall be your smock

Becomes your body best

Your hat shall be the gillyflower

With a primrose at your breast

Your hat shall be the gillyflower

With a primrose at your breast

Your gown shall be the sweet William

Your coat the camavine

Your apron of the salad meat

That tastes both sweet and fine

Your apron of the salad meat

That tastes both sweet and fine

Your glove shall be the marigold

All glistening to your hand

And well spread o'er with the blue blaywort

That grows among corn land

And well spread o'er with the blue blaywort

That grows among corn land

O fare thee well, young man, she said

Farewell, I bid adieu

Since you have shaped the weed for me

Among the summer flowers

This I will pay you back again

Among the winter showers

The driven snow shall be your shirt

Becomes your body best

The coal black rain shall be your coat

With a wind gale at your breast

The coal black rain shall be your coat

With a wind gale at your breast

The steed that you shall ride upon

Shall be a sherry gale

And I'll bridle it with a northern blast

And some sharp showers of hail

And I'll bridle it with a northern blast

And some sharp showers of hail

The hat that on your head you wear

Shall be a stormy day

And when you come into my sight

I'll wish you were away

And when you come into my sight

I'll wish you were away