3
I've been where stormy winds do blow,
And often fac'd the deadly foe,
Say, will you have me, yea or no,
And wed poor Jack the Sailor.
Two hundred pounds left by your aunt,
Three hundred more I'd give you;
But if you marry without consent,
A farthing I wont leave you:
Besides to marry she's too young,
And Sailors have a flattering tongue,
So from my pretence quick begone
If you wed that tarry Sailor.
Says Jack, I don't regard that sum,
My dear, I've gold in plenty;
Believe me, Sir, I do not come
To court with pockets empty;
Five hundred guineas in bright gold,
Upon the table there he told,
And swept them in her apron-fold,
Take that and Jack your Sailor.
Her father seeing his honest heart,
That he behav'd so clever:
Said, 'tis a pity you to part,
