Soon as these words she spoke, her love grew stronger, He flew into her arms, he could wait no longer, They both sat down and sung, but she sung clearest, Like a Nightingale in spring, Welcome home, my dearest. He sang God bless the wind that blew him over, She sang God bless the ship that brought him over, They both sat down and sung, but she sung clearest, Like a Nightingale in spring, Welcome home, my dearest. LXXXVIII The Maid's Lamentation for the Loss of her True Love As I walk'd out one May morning down by a river's side, There I beheld a gay lady that was to have been a Bride, She was to have been a Bride, my boys, and a charmer to behold, May the Heavens above protect and keep all jolly sailors bold. I built my Love a very fine Ship, a Ship of noble Fame, With twenty-five Mariners to box about the Main; When the Wind blows, Boys, and Seas begin to spout, My true Love, and his gallant Ship, was sadly tost about. Our Anchor and our Cables we overboard did throw, Our Main-mast and our Rigging, overboard did blow, By the Tempest of bad Weather, and the Raging of the Sea, I never had but one true Love, and him they took from me. Says the Mother to the Daughter, what makes you to lament? Is there never a Lad in this Town that can give you Content? No, there's never a Lad in the Town ever shall suffer for me, Since the Seas and the Winds has parted my Love and me. There shall no Scarf go on my Head, no Comb into my Hair, No Fire burn, no Candle light to shew my Beauty fair, For never will I married be, until the Day I die, Since the Seas and the Winds has parted my Love and me. LXXXIX The Distressed Ship Carpenter I might have had a King's Daughter, And fain she would have married me, But I've forsaken all her Crowns of Gold, And all for the Sake, Love, of thee. If you might have had a King's Daughter, I think you much to blame, I would not for Five Hundred Pounds, For my Husband is a Carpenter, Or else, Love, I'd go along with thee. But, if I should leave my Husband dear, What have you to maintain me withal, I have seven Ships upon the Seas, And one of them brought me to Land, And Seventeen Mariners to wait on thee, For to be, Love, at your Command. A pair of Slippers thou shalt have, A gilded Boat then thou shalt have, For to keep thee from thy overthrow. They had not been long upon the Sea, Or do you weep for some other young Man, That should have come along with me. But the Mariner and she were drown'd, When Tidings to Old England came, Oh! cursed be those Mariners, For they do lead a wicked life, They ruin'd me a Ship Carpenter, By deluding away my Wife. XC To all you Ladies now at Land' To all you ladies now at land, We men at sea indite; But first would have you understand How hard it is to write; The Muses now, and Neptune too, We must implore to write to you. With a fa, la, la, la, la. For though the Muses should prove kind, And fill our empty brain; Yet if rough Neptune rouse the wind, Our paper, pen and ink, and we With a fa, la, la, la, la. Then, if we write not by each post, Our tears we'll send a speedier way, The King, with wonder and surprise, Should foggy Opdam chance to know Our sad and dismal story, The Dutch would scorn so weak a foe And quit their fort at Goree; For what resistance can they find From men who've left their hearts behind? With a fa, la, la, la, la. Let wind and weather do its worst, Be you to us but kind, Let Dutchmen vapour, Spaniards curse, 'Tis then no matter how things go, Or who's our friend, or who's our foe. With a fa, la, la, la, la. |