Down in a willow garden. Where me and my love did meet. 'Twas there we sat a courting. My love dropped off to sleep.. . I had a bottle of the Burglar's wine. Which my true love did not know. And so I poisoned that dear little girl. Down under the bank below.. . I stobbed her with a dagger. Which was a bloody knife. I threw her in the river. Which was a dreadful sight.. . My father often told me. That money would set me free. If I would murder that dear little girl. Whose name was Rose Connelly.. . And now he sits in his own cottage door. a wiping his weeping eye. And now he waits for his own dear son. Upon the scaffold high.. . My race is run beneath the sun. Lo hell's now waiting for me. For I have murdered that dear little girl. Whose name was Rose Connelly.. . From Folk Song USA Lomax.