The Wee Weaver Songtext
von Dolores Keane & John Faulkner

I am a wee weaver
Confined to my loom
And my love she is fairer
Than the red rose in bloom
She is loved by all young men
And that does grieve me
There′s a heart in my bosom
For lovely Mary
As Willie and Mary
Roved by yon shady bough
Where Willie and Mary
Spent many's the happy hour


Where the blackbirds and thrushes
Do concert and chorus
The praises of Mary
And love fair and sure
As Mary and Willie
Roved by yon riverside
Says Willie to Mary
Will you be my bride?
This couple got married
And they roved no more
They have pleasure and treasure
And love fair and sure