Lady, lady, buy, I pray,
Water-cresses fresh and young;
Many miles I’m forced to stray,
Lanes and meadows damp among.
Stooping at the crystal brook,
By the morning light I’m seen:
Lady, lady, pray you look;
Buy my water-cresses green.
’Tis the honest truth I tell,
These were gather’d fresh to-day;
I have cause to know it well,
By the long and weary way.
On my arm, so tann’d and brown,
So my little basket hung;
As I travell’d back to town,
With my water-cresses young.
Hardly was a little bird
Stirring as I went along;
Not a waggon-wheel I heard,
Nor the ploughman’s cheery song.
Still upon the waters grey,
Mists of early morning hung;
Buy then, lady fair, I pray,
Buy my water-cresses young.