A brisk young sailor courted me,

He stole away my liberty,

He won my heart with a free good-will,

He's false, I know, but I love him still.



There is an alehouse in yonder town,

Where my love goes and sits him down,

He takes another girl on his knee,

And don't you think that's a grief to me?



A grief to me! I'll tell you why,

Because she's got more gold than I,

Her gold will waste and her beauty blast,

And she'll become like me at last.



O what a foolish girl was I

To give my heart to a sailor boy,

A sailor boy although he be,

I love him better than he loves me.