I was a bachelor I lived by myself,
I worked at the weaver's trade.
And the only thing I did that was wrong
Was to woo a fair young maid.
I wooed her in the winter- time
and in the summer, too.
And the only thing I did that was wrong
was to keep her from the foggy, foggy dew.

One night she to my bedside
When I was fast asleep.
She flung her arms around my neck
And then began to weep.
She wept, she cried, she tore her hair.
Ah me, what could I do.
So all-night I held her in my arms
Just to keep her from the foggy, foggy dew.