On a fair, a fair morning, as I came by the way, met I with a merry merry maid, in the merry month of May. When a sweet love sings his lovely lay, And every bird upon the bush bechirps it up so gay, with an heave and ho, thy wife will be thy master I trow: Sing care away, let the world go, Hey lustily, all in a row: Sing care away, let the world go.