Maiden with the lips of scarlet

Maiden with the lips of scarlet,

Clearest, sweetest eyes that be,

O my darling little maiden,

Even do I think of thee!

Dreary is the winter evening:

Would that I were in thy home,

Sitting by thee, calmly chatting,

In the cosy little room.

And upon my lips, my darling,

I would press thy small white hand.

I would press and I would moisten

With my tears thy small, white hand.