There's Collen fair as May for a year and for a day
I have sought by every way her heart to gain.
There's no art of tongue or eye, fond youths with maidens try
But I've tried with ceaseless sighs yet tried in vain
If to France or far off to Spain she'd cross the watery main
To see her face again the seas I'd brave
For if 'tis heavens decree that mine she may not be
May the Son of Mary me in mercy save
Oh thou blooming milk-white dove,
To whom I've given true love,
Do not ever reprove my constancy;
There are maidens would be mine, with wealth in land or kine,
If my heart would but incline to turn from thee;
But a kiss with welcome bland, and a touch of thy fair hand,
Are all that I demand would'st thou not spurn,
For if not mine dear girl, oh snowy breasted pearl,
May I never from the fair with life return.
I have sought by every way her heart to gain.
There's no art of tongue or eye, fond youths with maidens try
But I've tried with ceaseless sighs yet tried in vain
If to France or far off to Spain she'd cross the watery main
To see her face again the seas I'd brave
For if 'tis heavens decree that mine she may not be
May the Son of Mary me in mercy save
Oh thou blooming milk-white dove,
To whom I've given true love,
Do not ever reprove my constancy;
There are maidens would be mine, with wealth in land or kine,
If my heart would but incline to turn from thee;
But a kiss with welcome bland, and a touch of thy fair hand,
Are all that I demand would'st thou not spurn,
For if not mine dear girl, oh snowy breasted pearl,
May I never from the fair with life return.