‘Pretty maid, come along!
Don’t you hear the sweet song,
How the notes of the nightingale flow?
Don’t you hear the fond tale
Of the sweet nightingale,
As she sings in those valleys below?
     So be not afraid
     To walk in the shade,
     Nor yet in those valleys below,
     Nor yet in those valleys below.

‘Pretty Nancy, don’t fail,
For I’ll carry your pail,
Safe home to your cot as we go;
You shall hear the fond tale
Of the sweet nightingale,
As she sings in those valleys below.’
     But she was afraid
     To walk in the shade,
     To walk in those valleys below,
     To walk in those valleys below.

‘Pray let me alone,
I have hands of my own;
Along with you sir I’ll not go,
To hear the fond tale
Of the sweet nightingale,
As she sings in those valleys below;
     For I am afraid
     To walk in the shade,
     To walk in those valleys below,
     To walk in those valleys below.’

‘Pray sit yourself down
With me on the ground,
On this bank where the primroses grow;
You shall hear the fond tale
Of the sweet nightingale,
As she sings in the valley below;
     So be not afraid
     To walk in the shade,
     Nor yet in those valleys below,
     Nor yet in those valleys below.’

This couple agreed;
They were married with speed,
And soon to the church they did go.
She was no more afraid
For to walk in the shade,
Nor yet in those valleys below:
     Nor to hear the fond tale
     Of the sweet nightingale,
     As she sang in those valleys below,
     As she sang in those valleys below.