Very early, oh, long before day

Very early, oh, long before day,

my heart wakes me up to think of you

when healthy youths should be sleeping.

Bright is my eye at midnight,

brighter than early morning bells:

when have you even thought of me in the day?

Were I a fisherman, I would get up,

carry my net out to the river,

carry the fish to market with hearty cheer.

In the mill at daybreak the mill-boy

romps about, all the gears clattering;

even such lusty work would do me good!

Ah! but I, poor ninny!

must lie in bed pining aimlessly,

an unruly woman-child in my head.