Down in the willow garden
Where me and my love did meet
There we sat according
My love fell off to sleep
I had a bottle of burgundy wine
Which my true love did not know
And there I poisoned that dear little girl
Down by the banks below
I drew my saber through her
Which was a bloody knife
I threw her in the river
Which was an awful sight
My father often told me
That money would set me free
If I would murder that dear little girl
Whose name was Rose Connolly
Well now he sits by his cabin door
Oh, wiping his tear-drowned eyes
Mourning for his only son
Out on the scaffold, high
My race is run beneath this sun
The devil is waiting for me
For I did murder that dear little girl
Whose name was Rose Connolly