Classic Poem

All on one summer's evening when the fever were a-dawning
I heard a fair maid make a mourn.
She was a-weeping for her father and a-grieving for her mother,
And a-thinking all on her true love John.
At last Johnny came and he found the doors all shut,
And he dingled so low at the ring.
Then this fair maid she rose and she hurried on her clothes
To make haste to let Johnny come in.
All around the waist he caught her and unto the bed he brought her,
And they lay there a-talking awhile.
She says: O you feathered fowls, you pretty feathered fowls,
Don't you crow till 'tis almost day,
And your comb it shall be of the pure ivory
And your wings of the bright silveree.
But him a-being young, he crowed very soon,
He crowed two long hours before day;
And she sent her love away, for she thought 'twas almost day.
And 'twas all by the light of the moon.

It's when will you be back, dear Johnny,
When will you be back to see me?
When the seventh moon is done and passed and shines on yonder lea,
And you know that will never be.
What a foolish girl was I when I thought he was as true
As the rocks that grow to the ground;
But since I do find he has altered his mind,
It's better to live single than bound.