My heart is pierced by cupid.... I disdain all glittering gold...
My Jolly Sailor Bold
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Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray, down by the walls of whopping where I met a sailor gay. Conversing with a young lass who seem'd to be in pain, saying, "William when you go, I fear you'll ne'er return again." Her hair it hangs in ringlets. Her eyes as black coal. My happiness attend her. Where ever she may go. From tower hill to blackwall, I wonder weep and moan, all for my jolly sailor bold until she does return. My father is a merchant; the truth I will now tell. And in great London city in opulence doth dwell. His fortune doth exceed 300,000 gold. He frowns upon his daughter, who loves a sailor bold. A fig for his riches, his merchandise and gold. True love has grafted my heart give me my sailor bold. Should she return in poverty, from r're the ocean far. To my tender bosom I'll fondly press my jolly tar. My sailor is as smiling as the pleasant month of May and oft we have wondered through ratcliffe highway, where many a pretty blooming girl we did behold reclining on the bosom of her jolly sailor bold. My name it is Maria, a merchant's daughter fair. And I left my parents and 3 thousand pounds a year. Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever ye may be, who love a sailor bold that plows the raging seas. While up aloft in storm from me her absence mourn. And firmly pray, arrive the day she home will safe return. My heart was pierced by cupid. I disdain on glittering gold. There's nothing can console me, but my jolly sailor bold
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