The Black-bird/Sailor Jack and Answer
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SAILOR JACK.
Last Monday-morning there sailed from Cork A Ship call’d the Montague,There’s one on board I dearly love; And I hope that he’ll prove true:Kind Heaven send him safely back,My life, my joy, my Sailor Jack. Fal-lal, lal-lal, lal.
The first time he came to see me, He was drest in rich array!He was drest all in hit rich brocades, With other garments gay:Deceive me not because I’m young,You’ve got a false and flatt’ring tongue. Fal-lal, &c.
The second time he came to court me, He was drest in Sailor’s array;Ha was drest all in his speckled shirt, With other garments gay;So sweet he sat and sung by me,With his good humour, frank and free. Fal-lal, &c.
If I on hoard with you should go, Don’t be angry with me, my dear;Your cabin I will closely keep, No man will I come near: And when your mess is almost out,I'll help to steer your ship about. Fal-lal, &c.
And when you're on the raging main, Think on your Molly dear;Constant I’ll be as the turtle-dove, No reason you’ll have to fear.Hoist up your sails, push back your oars,And turn'to your Molly’s arms once more. Fal-lal, lal-lal, lal.
THE ANSWER.
Last Monday-morning we went to sea With a sweet and pleasant gale;My lovely Molly's white and red Was turn’d to deadly pale!But if Fortune send me safe on shore, I'll cherish Molly’s heart once more. Fal-lal, lal-lal, lal.
She has a long and slender waist, Her breast as white as snow;She has a kind and am’rous look, And her mind with wit doth flow:She’s in her humour frank and free,And sings with a sweet melody. Fal-lal, &c.
When we were on the raging main, Drinking good wine and beer,At other times with a bowl of punch our sailor’s hearts to cheer;Yet none of these, so pleaseth me,As when in Molly’s company. Fal-lal, &c.
When I go to the top-mast head, For some strange sail to spy,I set my face towards the shore, And cast a watchful eye,Hoping my dearest for to see,Come rowing in a boat to me Fal-lal,&c.
May Neptune smooth the foaming seas, Boreas a gale bestow,That our hollow’d sails belly’d from the masts, By a gentle breeze may blow,To send us to our wish’d-for shore,I’ll fly, to her arms whom I adore. Fal-lal, fal-lal, fal-lal.