| When I was in service in the Rosemary Lane
|
| I won the good will of my master Amberdine
|
| 'Till a young sailor came there one night to lie
|
| And that was the beginning of my misery
|
| He called for a candle to light him to bed
|
| Likewise a silk handkerchief to tie up his head
|
| To tie up his head as sailors will do
|
| «And third my pretty Polly, won’t you come too?»
|
| This may be young and foolish, she thought it no harm
|
| To lie onto bed for to keep herself warm
|
| And what was done there, I will never disclose
|
| But I wish that short night had been seven long years
|
| Next morning this sailor so early arose
|
| And into my apron three guineas did throw
|
| Saying «This I will give and more I will do
|
| If you’d be my pretty Polly wherever I go»
|
| And if it’s a boy, he will fight for the King
|
| And if it’s a girl she will wear a gold ring
|
| Wear a gold ring and a dress all of light
|
| And remember my service in the Rosemary Lane
|
| When I was in service in the Rosemary Lane
|
| I won the good will of my master Amberdine
|
| 'Till a young sailor came there one night to lie
|
| And that was the beginning of my misery |