O love, come o'er the water,
O love, where'er you be!
My own sweetheart, my darling,
Come over the river to me!
If any girls are fairer,
Then fairer let them be;
No maid in all the country
Is half so fair to me.
If other eyes are brighter,
Then brighter let them shine;
I know that none are lighter
Upon this heart of mine.
If other's locks are longer,
Then longer let them grow;
Hers are the only fish-lines
Which ever caught me so.
She wears upon her finger
A ring we know so well,
And we and that ring only
Know what the ring can tell.
From trees into the water
Leaves fall and float away,
So kisses come and leave us,
A thousand in a day.
Yet though they come by thousands,
Yet still they show their face;
As soon as one has left us
Another fills its place.
O love, come o'er the water,
O lore, where'er you be!
My own sweetheart, my darling,
Come over the river to me!