Down in the willow garden
Where me and my true love did meet
It was there we went a courting
My love fell off to sleep
And I had a bottle of burgundy wine
My true love she did not know
It was there I poisoned that dear little girl
Down on the banks below

I drew my saber through her
It was a bloody knife
I threw her into the river
Oh what a dreadful sight
My father often told me
That money would set me free
If I'd but murder that dear little girl
Whose name was Rose Connelly

Now father stands at his cabin door
Wiping his tear dimmed eyes
Mourning the loss of his own dear son
Upon the scaffold high
My race is run beneath the sun
Now hell is waiting for me
For I did murder that dear little girl
Whose name was Rose Connelly