(
Traditional)
Come my own one, come my fair one
Come now unto me
Could you fancy a poor sailor lad
Who has just come from sea?
You are ragged, love; you are dirty, love;
And your clothes smell much like tar;
So begone, you saucy sailor lad,
So begone, you Jack Tar.
If I'm ragged, love; and I'm dirty, love;
And my clothes smell much like tar;I have silver in me pockets, love,
And gold in great store.
And then when she heard him say so
On her bended knee she fell--I will marry my dear Henry,
For I love the lad so well.
Do you think that I am foolish, love?
Do you think that I am mad,
For to wed with a poor country girl
Where no fortune's to be had?I will cross the briny ocean,I will whistle and sing,
And since you have refused the offer, love,
Some other girl shall wear the ring.I am frolicksome, I am easy,
Good-tempered and free,
And I don't give a single pin, me boys,
What the world thinks of me.
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