What I was walling in or walling out,
Chattering like magpies,
When bursts Clan Alpine on the foe,
Whose grapes are so luscious;
Lizzie met her at the gate
I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
I dare not think upon thy vow,
Sundays too my father got up early
While with sunk eyes and faded mouth
What I was walling in or walling out,
Chattering like magpies,
When bursts Clan Alpine on the foe,
Whose grapes are so luscious;
Lizzie met her at the gate
I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
I dare not think upon thy vow,
Sundays too my father got up early
While with sunk eyes and faded mouth