Fare thee well cold winter and fare thee well cold frost
There is nothing I have gained but a lover I have lost
I will sing and I'll be merry when fortune I do see
And I'll rest me when I'm weary—let him go then—farewell he
Last night I saw my true love all down in yonder grove
I gave to him a smile; not a word came from my love
Well, if he likes another and together they agree
I can find another lover—let him go then—farewell he
Take half-a-pound of reason, half-an-ounce of common sense
A sprig of thyme in season, a little sage prudence
Then mix them well together and I think you'll plainly see
He's no lad for windy weather—let him go then—farewell he
