Green Grows the Laurel

I had a sweetheart, but now I have none
Now she has left me, she’s left me and gone
She’s gone with another far better, you see
Oh she now loves another far better than me

Green grow the laurels and soft falls the dew
Dark was the night, love, I parted with you
Now that we’re parted contented I’ll be
Ah she now loves another far better than me

I wrote her a letter in a neat fancy line
She wrote me an answer all twisted and twined
Saying, You keep your letters and I will write mine
Ah you write your own love and I will write mine

I sometimes do wonder why women love men
More times I wonder why they can love them
But from my experience I’ll have you all know
That [they] are deceivers [wherever they go]

Green grow the laurels and soft falls the dew
Dark was the night, love, I parted with you
Now that we’re parted contented I’ll be
Ah she now loves another far better than me.

Notes from Hugh Shields

In verse 4 “they” may be replaced by “men” or “women” (usually the latter).