A Sailor's Trade is a Dreary Life
4
A sailor's trade is a dreary life.
It causes men to lose their lives.
It causes the women to weep and to mourn,
Because of their truelove, never to return.
The color of my trueloves hair is brown,
And on his head he wears a crown.
Oh, he will return and give me joy,
For none will I have but my sweet sailor boy.
Father, oh, father go build me a boat,
That I may or the ocean float.
And every ship that I pass by,
There I will inquire for my sweet sailor boy.
As she went sailing or the main,
She met three ships just coming from Spain.
She hailed the Captain as he went by,
There she inquired for her sweet sailor boy.
Captain, oh, Captain, can you tell,
If my sweet William, with you dwell.
No, my dear, he is not here,
Saw him drowned in the Gulf my dear.
She wrung her hands, and tore her hair,
Just like a lady in dispair.
She ran her boat against a rock,
And I thought the poor lady's heart would break.
She called for a stand to write upon,
A pen and ink to set it down,
The end of every line, she dropped a tear,
At the end of every verse, cried, oh, my dear!
Go dig my grave bothe wide and deep,
Put a marble slab at my head and feet,
And on my breast, a turtle dove,
To let the world know that I died for love!
From
R.W.J. Bullet
