The American Songster, Song

One morning very early, one morning in the spring. I heard a maid in Bedlam, who mournfully did sing; Her chains she rattled on her hands, while sweetly thus sung she, I love my love, because I know my love loves me.

Oh cruel were his parents, who sent my love to sea, And cruel, cruel was the ship that bore my love from me, Yet I love his parents, since they're his, although they've ruin'd me; And I love my love, because I know my love loves me.

O should it please the pitying powers to call me to the sky, I'd claim a guardian angel's charge, around my love to fly; To guard him from all dangers how happy should I be! For I love my love, because I know my love loves me

I'll make a strawy garland, I'll, make it wondrous fine, With roses, lilies, daisies, I'll mix the eglantine; And I'll present it to my love when he returns from sea, For I love my love, because I know my love loves me.

Oh if I were a little bird to build upon his breast, Or if I were a nightingale to sing my love to rest! To gaze upon his lovely eyes all my reward should be; For I love my love, because I know my love loves me.

Oh if I were an eagle, to sour into the sky! I'd gaze around with piercing eyes where I my love might spy; But ah! unhappy maiden, that love you ne'er shall see, Yet I love my love, because I know my love loves me.