In Oxford city there dwelt a fair maid
The truth to you, love, I now must tell
She being strongly courted by a handsome young
And he oft-times told her he loved her well

He loved her dearly all at a distance
He oft-times told her not to be so fond
And he oft-times told her that he would not leave
Whilst walking down by a shady strand

To a dance-house we were invited
And to a dance-house we both did go
When another young man soon followed after
For to prove this young girl's overthrow

If she danced all with this young man
Jealousy soon filled his wicked mind
You destroyed the life of a charming young girl
And for that young man she being inclined

He went outside, he prepared a poison
He mixed it up with a glass of wine
And he gave it unto his own true-lover
And she drank it up with a willing smile

She had not long this liquor taken
Saying: Take me home, my true-love, cried she
O the glass of wine you have lately giv'n me
It has made me feel ill quite inwardly

All the same, love, you drank, my darling
All the same, love, as well as thee
In each other's arms we'll die together
Be aware, fair maids, of cruel jealousy

British folk song, author uncertain

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