The Black-bird/Sailor Jack and Answer

by Anonymous

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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.

 

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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.