A brisk young sailor courted me,
He stole away my liberty,
He won my heart with a free good-will,
He's false, I know, but I love him still.

There is an alehouse in yonder town,
Where my love goes and sits him down,
He takes another girl on his knee,
And don't you think that's a grief to me?

A grief to me! I'll tell you why,
Because she's got more gold than I,
Her gold will waste and her beauty blast,
And she'll become like me at last.

O what a foolish girl was I
To give my heart to a sailor boy,
A sailor boy although he be,
I love him better than he loves me.