She was a pretty little gosling
And a gay young gosling he.
And "I love you", he said "so dearly",
And "I love you too", said she.
"But alas, we must part", he whispered,
"I'm off to the world so wide.
But love, don't fear, I'll come next year
And make you, and make you my little bride."
'Twas Nicholas day at morning
That he came home once more
He met his true love's mother
And o, she was weeping sore.
"Too late you've come" she whispered.
"They've taken your love away.
She never will be your bride, ah me
For she's going, she's going to be cooked today."
Then up he went to the farmhouse
"Where is my love?" he said.
But the farmer's wife, she seized a knife
And cut off his little head.
And she served him up with his true love
On a dish both deep and wide.
So though in life they were parted
In death they lay side by side.
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