'Twas down in yon valley a fair maid did dwell,
She lived with her uncle, they all knew full well,
'Twas down in yon valley where violets grew gay,
Three gypsies betrayed her and stole her away.
Long time she'd been missing, and could not be found;
Her uncle, he searched the country around,
Till he came to the trustee, between hope and fear,
The trustee made answer, "She has not been here."
The trustee spoke over with courage so bold,
"I fear she's been lost for the sake of her gold,
So we'll have life for life, sir," the trustee did say,
"We'll send you to prison, and there you shall stay."
There was a young squire that loved her so,
Oft times to the schoolhouse together they did go,
"I'm afraid she's been murdered, so great is my fear.
If I'd wings like a dove I would fly to my dear."
He traveled through England, through France and through Spain,
Till he ventured his life on the watery main,
And he came to a house where he lodged for a night,
And in that same house was his own heart's delight.
When she saw him, she knew him, and fled to his arms;
She told him her grief while he gazed on her charms.
"How came you to Dublin, my dearest, I pray?"
"Three gypsies betrayed me and stole me away."
"Your uncle's in England, in prison does lie,
And for your sweet sake is condemned for to die."
"Carry me to old England, my dearest," she cried.
"One thousand I'll give thee, and will be your bride."
When they came to old England her uncle to see,
The cart it was under the high gallows tree;
"Oh, pardon, oh, pardon, oh, pardon I crave.
I'm alive, I'm alive, your dear life to save."
Then from the high gallows they led him away,
The bells they did ring and the music did play,
Every house in that valley with mirth did resound,
As soon as they heard the lost lady was found.