Standard (EADGBE)
Down in the willow garden, where me and my love did meet,
There we sat a-courting, and my love dropped off to sleep.
I had a bottle of the Burglar's wine, which my true love did not know,
And there I poisoned that dear little girl down under the banks below.
I stabbed her with a dagger, which was my bloody knife.
I threw her in the river, which was a dreadful sight.
My father often told me that money would set me free,
If I would murder that dear little girl, whose name was Rose Connelly.
But now he sits in his own cottage door, a-wiping his weeping eye,
A-waiting for his own dear son upon the scaffold high.
My race is run beneath the sun. Lo, Hell's now waiting for me,
For I have murdered that girl I love, whose name was Rose Connelly.