Lyrics As I Roved Out - Live in Owen Sound, Ontario / 2023 - Loreena McKennitt

And who are you, my pretty fair maid, who are you me honey?
And who are you, my pretty fair maid, who are you me honey?
She answered me quite modestly, "I am my mother's darling"
With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle-dai-rie, oh

And won't you come to my mother's house, when the moon is shining clearly?
And won't you come to my mother's house, when the moon is shining clearly?
I'll go to the door, and I'll let you in, divil the one would hear us
With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle-dai-rie, oh

So, I went to her house in the middle of the night, the moon was shining clearly
So, I went to her house in the middle of the night, the moon was shining clearly
She came to the door, she let me in, divil the one did hear us
With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle-dai-rie, oh

She took me horse by the bridle and the bit, led him to the stable
She took me horse by the bridle and the bit, led him to the stable
Saying, "There's plenty of oats for a soldier's horse, to eat it if he is able"
With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle-dai-rie, oh

She took me by the lily-white hand, led me to the table
She took me by the lily-white hand, led me to the table
Saying, "There's plenty of wine for a soldier boy, to drink if he is able"
With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle-dai-rie, oh

And I got up, and I made the bed, I made it nice and easy
Then I got up, and I made the bed, I made it nice and easy
Then I got up and laid her down, saying, "Lassie, are you able?"
With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle-dai-rie, oh

And there we lay 'til the break of day, divil the one did hear us
And there we lay 'til the break of day, divil the one did hear us
Then I arose, put on me clothes, saying, "Lassie, I must leave you"
With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle-dai-rie, oh

And when will you return again, when will we be married?
And when will you return again, when will we be married?
When broken shells make Christmas bells, we might then get married
With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle-dai-rie, oh