Blackest Crow

As time draws near, my dearest dear,
When you and I must part.
How little you know of the grief and woe
in my poor achin heart.
Tis but I'd suffer for your sake
Believe me dear, it's true.
I wish that you were stayin here, or I was goin with you.

I wish my chest were made of glass,
Wherein you might behold
upon my heart your name lies wrote
in letters made of gold.
In letters made of gold, my love
Believe me when I say;
You are the one that holds my heart until my dyin day.

The Blackest Crow that e'er did flew
must surely turn to white.
If ever I proved false to you,
my day would turn to night.
My day would turn to night, my love.
All of us would mourn.
If ever I proved false to you, my seas would rage and burn.