Blome Swete Lilie Flour

Blome, blome swete lilie flour The brown bird sings his melodie Blome, blome swete lilie flour I go to see St. Mary Hold, hold my hand in yours Hold, hold my hand Cold, cold the night has grown No coin to pay the ferry Hold, hold my hand, dear love Hold, hold my hand Cold, cold the night has grown No coin to ease my wandering Blome, blome swete lilie flour The brown bird chirps his melodie Blome, blome swete lilie flour I go to see St. Mary