O the cuckoo she's a pretty bird and she singeth as she flies

She brings us good tidings and she tells us no lies

She sucks the small bird's eggs to keep her voice clear

And the more she singeth cuckoo the summer draws near

And when I have found out my joy and delight

I'll welcome him kindly by day and by night

For the bells shall be a-ringing and the drums make a noise

For to welcome in my true love with ten thousand joys

In the middle of the ocean there grows a myrtle tree

And the green leaves will whither and the branches shall die

The leaves will whither and the roots they will decay

And a false-hearted lover will soon fade away

For it's meeting is pleasure and parting is grief

And an inconstant lover is worse than any thief

For a thief he will rob you and take all you have

But a false-hearted lover will lead you to the grave

But now I have found him my own heart's delight

I will be true to my love by day and by night

I will be as true to him as the little turtle dove

Nor I never shall, no never, prove false to my love