Willy Moore was a king, he was scarce twenty-one
Courted a lady fair
Her eyes were as bright as two diamonds in the night
And raven black was her hair
He courted her night and day
To marry they did agree
But when they came to get her parents to consent
Both said it could never be
She threw herself in Willy Moore's arms
As oft-time had done before
Little did he think as he held her that night
Sweet Anne he would see no more
It was just around the month of May
And that night I remembered so well
The very same night her body disappeared
In a way no tongue could tell
Sweet Anne she was known both far and wide
Her friends were all around
And in the little brook before the cottage door
The body of sweet Anne was found
Taken away by her weeping friends
Up to her parents' room
And there she is dressed in a shroud of snowy white
And laid in a lonely tomb
Willy Moore never spoke, he just took to the road
From all his friends he did part
Last I heard of him, he was in Montreal
Where he died of a broken heart.