Down in the willow garden
Where me and my love did meet,
As we sat there a-courtin'
My love fell off to sleep.
I had a bottle of Burgundy wine,
My love, she did not know,
And so I poisoned that dear little girl
On the banks below.
I drew a sabre through her,
It was a bloody knife.
I threw her in the river,
Which was a dreadful sign.
My father often told me
That money would set me free,
If I would murder that dear little girl
Whose name was Rose Connolly.
My father sits at his cabin door,
Wiping his tear-dimmed eyes,
For his only son soon shall walk
To yonder scaffold high.
My race is run, beneath the sun
The scaffold now waits for me,
For I did murder that dear little girl
Whose name was Rose Connelly.