She's Like a Swallow

She's like the swallow that flies so high,
She's like the river that never runs dry.
She's like the sunshine on the lee shore,
She loves her love but she'll love no more.

'Twas down in the meadow this fair maid bent
A-picking the primrose just as she went.
The more she picked and the more she pulled,
Until she gathered her apron full.

She climbed on yonder hill above
To give a rose unto her love.
She gave him one, she gave him three
She gave her heart for company.

And as they sat on yonder hill
His heart grew hard, so harder still.
He has two hearts instead of one.
She says, "Young man, what have you done?"

"How foolish, foolish you must be
To think I love no one but thee.
The world's not made for one alone,
I take delight in everyone."

She took her roses and made a bed,
A stony pillow for her head.
She lay her down, no more did say,
But let her roses fade away.

She's like the swallow that flies so high,
She's like the river that never runs dry,
She's like the sunshine on the lee shore,
She loves her love but she'll love no more.

From the Penguin Book of Canada Folk Songs, Fowke
RG