As I was a-walking to take the fresh air The flowers all blooming and gay I heard a young damsel so sweetly a-singing Her cheeks like flowers in May I said, "Pretty maiden, may I go with you Through the flowers to gather some May?" The maid she replied, "My path, it is here I pray you pursue your own way." So she tripped along with her dear little feet But I followed and soon I drew near I called her my pretty, my true love so sweet So she took me at last for her dear I took this fair maid by the lily-white hand On a green mossy bank we sat down I gave her a kiss on her sweet rosy lips The tree spread its branches around Now when we did rise in that sweet mossy grove In the meadows we wandered away And I sat my true love on a primrose bank And picked her a handful of May The very next morning I made her my bride Just after the breaking of day The bells they did ring and the birds they did sing As I crowned her the queen of sweet May