There we sat a courting my love fell off to sleep

I had a bottle of burgundy wine which my true love did not know

And there I poisoned that dear little girl down on the bank below

I drew my saber through her which was a bloody knife

I threw her in the river which was an awful 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

Now he sits in his cabin door wiping his tear dimmed eyes

Mourning for his only son out on the scaffold high

My race is run beneath the sun the devil is waiting for me

For I did murder that dear little girl whose name was Rose Connelly