Melody -
Melody -
|
|: I courted Pretty Polly the live-long night :| Then left her next morning before it was light. |: O Polly, pretty Polly, come away with me, Before we get married some pleasure to see. |: He led her over the fields and the valleys so wide :| Until pretty Polly, she fell by his side. |: Oh Willie, oh Willie, I'm scaird of your ways :| I'm afraid you will lead my poor body astray. |: Pretty Polly, pretty Polly, you're guessing just right :| I dug on your grave the best part of last night. |: She threw her arms around him and trembled with fear :| How can you kill the poor girl that loves you so dear. |: There's no time to talk and there's no time to stand :| Then he drew his knife all in his right hand. |: He stabbed her to the heart and her heart's blood did flow, :| And into the grave pretty Polly did go. |: Then he threw a little dirt over her and started for home :| Leaving no one behind but the wild birds to mourn. "Good morning, pretty Polly, we have met in good time, A question for to ask you which I hope is no crime; Come, sit you down beside me, and married we will be, And learn how to love me, my charming Polly. "I will buy you fine ribbons, I will buy you fine rings, I will buy you fine presents of fifty fine things, I will buy you a silk dress all flowered so neat, And then won't you have me, my charming Polly "I care not for your ribbons, I care not for your rings, I care not for your presents of fifty fine things, I care not for your silk dress all flowered so neat, For I cannot have a married man until he is free." "Oh, Polly, oh, Polly, lend me your knife; I will go right straight home and kill my old wife, Kill my old wife and children all three, And then won't you have me, my charming Polly "Oh, Billy, Oh, Billy, don't you do so; I will go right straight home and let no one know; For seven long years I will wait upon thee, For I cannot have a married man until he is free." It is six long years rolled over, the seventh one passed; "My old wife is dying,--she is dead, sir, at last." He thanked his kind maker, how happy was he, And straightway went courting his charming Polly. He married his Polly, and took her home, He made her a present of which she thought he had none. Come, all you fair maids, and take warning by me, And never have a married man until he is free. The cuckoo is a pretty bird, she sings as she flies, She brings us good tidings and tells us no lies; She sucks all sweet flowers to make her voice clear, And never sings cuckoo till the spring of the year. A meeting is a pleasure, a parting is a grief, An unconstant lover is worse than a thief; A thief can but rob you, and take all you have, But an unconstant lover will send you to your grave. The grave can but moulder you and turn you to dust, There is scarce one in a hundred a fair maid can trust; They will offer they your tongue to deceive, There is scarce one in a hundred I can believe. A-walking and a-talking and a-walking was I To meet pretty Polly, I'll meet her by and by: I'll meet her in the green meadows where it is my delight, And walk with her and talk with her from morning till night. I dream of pretty Polly forever lying free Hard has been my fortune, sad has been my fate Came unto my love's door, expecting to get in Instead of finding pleasures, my troubles did begin Stood their one hour as patient as Job Polly, pretty Polly, come open the door I saw another man enjoy within room I walk-ed away by the light of the moon I took to my heels just as hard as I could go Rambled way down by the far shady grove There I sat down with a bottle in my hand Drinking of brandy and thinking of that man In the morning so early pretty Polly passed me by Red rosy cheeks and her dark sparkling eye Her hair was so dark and here eyes they were the same I'm wounded in the heart did you ever feel that pain I wish I was a fisherman on yon river side And Polly my object come floating down the tide I'd throw my net around her and haul her to the shore I'd have my darlin' and we'd quarrel no more Green grows the laurel and likewise the rue Sugar is sweet but not like you Since it is no better, I'm glad it is no worse Brandy in my bottle and money in my purse |