Blome Swete Lilie Flour

Blome, blome swete lilie flour
The brown bird sings his melodie
Blome, blome swete lilie flour
I go to see St. Mary

Hold, hold my hand in yours
Hold, hold my hand
Cold, cold the night has grown
No coin to pay the ferry

Hold, hold my hand, dear love
Hold, hold my hand
Cold, cold the night has grown
No coin to ease my wandering

Blome, blome swete lilie flour
The brown bird chirps his melodie
Blome, blome swete lilie flour
I go to see St. Mary