“Will you come with me, fair Jeanneton,
To walk in the pleasant weather?
We will go along the water's edge,
And sport and play together.”

When they came to the water's edge,
She was athirst, she said:
“Rather than drink of this white wine,
I will drink your blood so red.”

“O my dear love, my own true love!
How dare you treat me so?”
“Oh, come, fair Jeanneton, lay off
Your skirts as white as snow.”

“O my dear love, my own true love!
Pull off my shoe for me.”
But while he pulled it from her foot,
She threw him in the sea.

The youth has caught a branch of tree,
He holds with might and main;
But Jeanneton with her penknife
Has cut the branch in twain.

“Oh, save me! save me! my true love!
I drift away so far!”
“Oh, no; oh, no, you cruel youth!
You may stay where you are.”

“O my dear love, my own true love,
Reach out your hand to me!”
“Oh, no; oh, no, you cruel youth!
You must sink to the depths of the sea!”

“O nightingale in the greenwood,
Fly to my mother's door;
Tell her my love is not to blame
That I come home no more.”