On the fourteenth of May at the dawn of the day
With my gun on my shoulder to the woods I did stray
In search of some game if the weather proved fair
To see could I get a shot at the bonny black hare
Oh, I met a young girl there with her face as a rose
And her skin was as fair as the lily that blows
I says "My fair maiden, why mumble you so?
Can you tell me where the bonny black hare do go?"
Oh, the answer she gave me, her answer was "No
But it's under me apron they say it do go
And if you'll not deceive me I vow and declare
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