She bore me and she bears me still
My mother Annie Gower.
She played with me and plays to kill
My sister Annie Gower.
She took me in and takes it well
My lover Annie Gower.
She made our bed and makes a meal
My wife my Annie Gower.
She mourns me and each morn she will
My widow Annie Gower.
She reads my words and red her quill
My daughter Annie Gower.
I built a bower on the hill
And wooed my Annie Gower.
And we embraced beneath the elm
That grew for Annie Gower.
We sang my rise and when I fell
And dreamed of Annie Gower. | 
