The Month of January Lyrics

It was in the month of January, the hills all clad with snow,
It was over hills and valleys my true love he did go.
It was there I met a pretty young girl with a salt tear in her eye,
She had a baby in her arms and bitter she did cry.
'Oh, cruel was my father that he barred the door to me,
And cruel was my mother, that dreadful crime to see.
Cruel was my own true love that he changed his mind for gold,
And cruel was that winter's night that pierced my heart with cold.'
For the taller that the palm tree grows, oh, the sweeter is the bark,
And the fairer that a young man speaks, oh, the falser is his heart.
Oh, he'll kiss you and embrace you till he thinks he has you won;
Then he'll go away and leave you all for some other one.

So come all you pretty fair maids, and warning take by me,
Never try and build your nest at the top of a high tree,
For the green leaves they will wither and the branches all decay
And the beauty of a young man it soon will fade away.