At the well below the valley oh
Green grows the lily oh
Right among the bushes oh

gentleman was passing by
He asked for a drink as he got dry

My cup is full up to the brim
If I were to stoop I might fall in

If your [bad word] lover was passing by
You'd fill him a drink as he got dry

She swore by grass, she swore by corn
That her [bad word] love had never been born

He said, Young maid you're swearing wrong
For six young children you had born

If you be a man of noble fame
You'll tell to me the father of them

There's two of them by your Uncle Dan
There's two of them by your Uncle Dan

Another two by your brother John
Another two by your brother John

Another two by your father dear
Another two by your father dear

If you be a man of noble 'steem
You'll tell me what did happen to them

There's two buried 'neath the stable door
There's two buried 'neath the stable door

Another two 'neath the kitchen door
Another two 'neath the kitchen door

Another two buried beneath the wall
Another two buried beneath the wall

If you be a man of noble fame
You'll tell me what will happen myself

You'll be seven years a-ringing the bell
You'll be seven years a-ringing the bell

You'll be seven more burning in [bad word] You'll be seven more burning in [bad word] 
I'll be seven years a-ringing the bell
But the lord above may save my soul
From burning in [bad word]