If you will go down to Rosemary Lane
Where every rose grows merry and fine
Oh, you'll pick me up, the finest girl there
And I will make her a true love of mine
Tell her to make me a cambric shirt
Where every rose grows merry and fine
To be done without needle or needlework
Then she will be a true lover of mine
And tell her to wash it in yonder well
Where every rose grows merry and fine
Where water there sprung and the rain never fell
Then she will be a true lover of mine
And tell her to dry it in yonder green soil
Where every rose grows merry and fine
Where blue never grows since Adam was born
Then she will be a true lover of mine
And when she's gone, she'll be a true lover of mine
She has finished all the work
Where every rose grows merry and fine
Oh, tell her I'll call for my cambric shirt
Then she will be a true lover of mine
If you won't go down to Rosemary Lane
Where every rose grows merry and fine
Oh, you'll pick me up, the finest boy there
And I will make him a true lover of mine
Tell him to get me an acre of land
Where every rose grows merry and fine
Between the salt sea and the salt sea strand
Then he will be a true lover of mine
Oh, tell him to plough it with ram's horn
Where every rose grows merry and fine
And sow it all over with one grain of corn
Then he will be a true lover of mine
Tell him to reap it with a cock's fatter
Where every rose grows merry and fine
And bind it all over with strippings of leather
Then he will be a true lover of mine
Tell him to draw you home on a sail
Where every rose grows merry and fine
Crash it all over with an obvious tale
Then you won't be a true lover of mine
Every rose grows merry and fine
Every rose grows merry and fine
Every rose grows merry and fine