text: Early one mornin one mornin in spring
  To hear the birds whistle the nightingales sing
  I met a fair maiden who sweetly did sing
  Im going to be married next Monday morning
  How old are you my fair young maid
  Here in this valley this valley so green
  How old are you my fair young maid
  Im goin to be sixteen next Monday mornin
  Well sixteen years old, thats too young for to marry
  So take my advice, five years longer to tarry
  For marriage brings troubles and sorrows begin
  So put off your wedding for Monday mornin
  You talk like a mad man, a man with no skill
  Two years Ive been waiting against my own will
  Now Im determined to have my own way
  And Im going to be married next Monday mornin
  And next Monday mornin the bells they will ring
  And my true love will buy me a gay gold ring
  Also hell buy me a new pretty gown
  To wear at my wedding next Monday mornin
  Next Monday night when I go to my bed
  And I turn round to the man that Ive wed
  Around his middle my two arms I will fling
  And I wish to my soul it was Monday mornin