Arise, arise, you pretty fair maids,
And take your May bush in,
For if that is gone before tomorrow morn
You would say we had brought you none.
Oh, the hedges and fields are growing so green,
As green as grass can be;
Our heavenly father watereth them
With his heavenly dew so sweet.
I have got a little purse in my pocket
That's tied with a silken string;
And all that it lacks is a little of your gold
To line it well within.
Now the clock strikes one, it's time we are gone,
We can no longer stay;
So please to remember our money, money box
And God send you a joyful May.