SHE.
I know a maid who loves a gallant youth,
(Hey, but she sickens as the days go by!)
She cannot tell him all the sad, sad truth--
(Hey, but I think that little maid will die!)

BOTH.
Now tell me pray, and tell me true,
What in the world should the poor soul do?

HE.
He cannot eat and he cannot sleep--
(Hey, but his face is a sight for to see!)
Daily he goes for to wail--for to weep--
(Hey, but he's wretched as a youth can be!)

SHE.
She's very thin and she's very pale--
(Hey, but she sickens as the days go by!)
Daily she goes for to weep--for to wail--
(Hey, but I think that little maid will die!)

BOTH.
Now tell me pray, and tell me true,
What in the world should the poor soul do?

SHE.
If I were the youth I should offer her my name--
(Hey, but her face is a sight for to see!)