If you will go down to Rosemary LaneWhere every rose grows merry and fineOh, you'll pick me up, the finest girl thereAnd I will make her a true love of mineTell her to make me a cambric shirtWhere every rose grows merry and fineTo be done without needle or needleworkThen she will be a true lover of mineAnd tell her to wash it in yonder wellWhere every rose grows merry and fineWhere water there sprung and the rain never fellThen she will be a true lover of mineAnd tell her to dry it in yonder green soilWhere every rose grows merry and fineWhere blue never grows since Adam was bornThen she will be a true lover of mineAnd when she's gone, she'll be a true lover of mineShe has finished all the workWhere every rose grows merry and fineOh, tell her I'll call for my cambric shirtThen she will be a true lover of mineIf you won't go down to Rosemary LaneWhere every rose grows merry and fineOh, you'll pick me up, the finest boy thereAnd I will make him a true lover of mineTell him to get me an acre of landWhere every rose grows merry and fineBetween the salt sea and the salt sea strandThen he will be a true lover of mineOh, tell him to plow it with a ram's hornWhere every rose grows merry and fineAnd sow it all over with one grain of cornThen he will be a true lover of mineTell him to reap it with a cocks featherWhere every rose grows merry and fineAnd bind it all over with strapings of leatherThen he will be a true lover of mineTell him to plough it with a ram's hornTell him to draw you over the sail where every rose grows merry and fineAnd crash you all over with an ox's tailThen you won't be a true lover of mineA lover of mineEvery rose grows merry and fineEvery rose grows merry and fine