Far and high the cranes give cry and spread their wings

Far and high the cranes give cry and spread their wings,

Angry is my darling for she no more sings.

Do not scorn my love, my sweetheart lift thy head,

Thine I am and thine I shall be, when I'm in the deep grave laid.

I have sown full violets, no one did bloom,

From her cote I've called my love, she did not come.

But there shall yet be a day when love is heard;

she shall listen; then her heart shall bid her come forth at my word.