Come all ye fair and tender ladies Take warning how, you court young men. They're like a star, on a summer morning They first appear, and then they're gone. They'll tell to you, some loving story And they make you think, that they love you well. Then away they'll go, and court some other And leave you there, in grief to dwell. I wish I was, a little sparrow And had wings to fly so high I'd fly away, to my false true lover And when she'd ask, I would deny. Oh love is handsome, love is charming Love is pretty, while its new. But love grows old, as love grows older And fades away, like morning dew.