It was in the month of January
All in the frost and snow
When through the hills and valleys
My true love she did go
It was there I spied a pretty young girl
With a salt tear in her eye
She held a baby in her arms
And bitterly she did cry
Saying, "Cruel was my father
Who barred the door on me
And cruel was my mother
A dreadful crime to see
Cruel was my own true love
Who changed his love for gold
And cruel were the wintery winds
That pierced my heart with cold
For the taller that a pine tree grows
The sweeter is the bark
And the fairer that a young man speaks
The falser is his heart
For they'll kiss you and caress you
'Til they think they have you won
Then they'll go away and leave you
All for some other one"
So can all you pretty fair young maids
A warning take by me
And never try and build your nest
On the top of any tall tree
For the green leaves they will wither
And the roots they will decay
And the blushes of a false young man
Will soon all fade away