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- Upon one summer’s morning, I carefully did stray,
- Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay,
- Conversing with a bouncing lass, who seem’d to be in pain,
- Saying, William, when you go, I fear you will ne’er return again.
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- His hair it does in ringlets hang, his eyes as black as soles,
- My happiness attend him wherever he goes,
- From Tower Hill, down to Blackwall, I will wander, weep and moan,
- All for my jolly sailor bold, until he does return.
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- 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 in gold,
- And he frowns upon his daughter, ‘cause she loves a sailor bold.
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- A fig for his riches, his merchandize, and gold,
- True love is grafted in my heart; give me my sailor bold:
- Should he return in poverty, from o’er the ocean far,
- To my tender bosom, I’ll fondly press my jolly tar.
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- My sailor is as smiling as the pleasant month of May,
- And oft we have wandered through Ratcliffe Highway,
- Where many a pretty blooming girl we happy did behold,
- Reclining on the bosom of her jolly sailor bold.
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- Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be
- Who love a jolly sailor bold that ploughs the raging sea,
- While up aloft, in storm or gale, from me his absence mourn,
- And firmly pray, arrive the day, he home will safe return.
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- My name it is Maria, a merchant’s daughter fair,
- And I have left my parents and three thousand pounds a year,
- My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold,
- There is nothing that can console me but my jolly sailor bold.
