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(English folk song; learned from Charlie Brown Artman during the 1960s; also found in Sing Out)

(music to go here)

My young love aid to me, Your mother won't mind,
And your father won't slight me for my lack of kind,
Then she threw her arms 'round me, and these words she did say:
It will not be long, love, till our wedding day.

Then she stepped away from me, and moved through the fair.
And fondly I watched her, move here and move there.
Till at last she turned homeward, one star was awake,
As the swan in the evening drifts over the lake.

The people were saying, No two were e'er wed
But one had a sorrow that never was said;
So I watched as she moved with her goods and her gear
And that was the last that I saw of my dear.
(She dies.)

Last night she came to me, my young love came in (her ghost)
She came in so softly that her feet made no din,
She threw her arms 'round me, and this she did say,
It will not be long, love, till our wedding day.

(from miriam berg's folksong collection)