traditional

The water is wide, I cannot get o'er.
And neither can I wings to fly.
Give me a boat that can carry two
And both shall row, my love and I.

I leaned my back up against an oak.
I though it was a trusty tree.
But first it swayed, and then it broke,
And so my false love did unto me.

Oh love is handsome and love is fine,
And love's a jewel when it is new.
But love grows old, and waxes cold,
And fades away like morning dew.