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.