|
Come, my dear one, come, my fair one,
Come and tell it unto me;
Could you fancy a poor sailor boy
That's just come from the sea?
You are ragged, love, and you're dirty, love
Your clothes, they smell of tar
So begone, you saucy sailor boy
So begone, you Jack Tar.
If I'm ragged, love, if I'm dirty, love
If my clothes, they smell of tar
Then I've silver in my pockets, love,
And gold in great store.
And when she heard these words come from him,
On her bended knee she fell,
I will marry my dear sailor boy
For I love him right well.
Do you think that I am foolish, love
Do you think that I am mad
Fot to wed with a poor country girl
Where no fortune's to be had.
I will cross the briny ocean, love
I will whistle, I will sing.
And since you've refused the offer, love,
Some other shall have the ring.
For I'm young, love, and I'm frolicsome
I'm good-tempered, kind and free
And I don't care a single pin, my boys
What the world thinks of me.
|