As I walked out one morning in May,
Just before the break of day,
I heard two brothers making their moan,
And I listened a while to what they did say,
I heard two brothers making their moan,
And I listened a while to what they did say.

"We have a brother in prison," said they,
"Oh in prison lieth he!
If we had but ten men just like ourselves,
The prisoner we would soon set free!"
"If we had but ten men just like ourselves,
The prisoner we would soon set free."

"Oh, no, no, no!" Bold Dickie said he,

As I walked out one morning down by the Sligo dock,
I overheard an Irishman conversing with Tapscott;
Good morning, Mr. Tapscott, would you be after telling to me,
Have you ever a ship bound for New York in the State of Amerikee.

Oh, yes, my pretty Irish boy, I have a ship or two,
They're laying at the wharf there, waiting for a crew;
They are New York packets, and on Friday they will sail,
At present she is taking in one thousand bags of meal.

Straightaway then I started, 'twas on the yellow-grog road,

As I walked out one May morning
When may was white in bloom,
I walked into a tillage field
To breathe the sweet perfume.
I walked into a tillage field
And leaned upon a stile,
When there I saw a ploughing boy
Who did my heart beguile.

'Twas Cupid was this ploughing boy,
His furrows deep did plough,
He brake the clods that hard he found,
The seeds that he might sow.
I wish that pretty ploughing boy
My eyes had never seen.
Oh Cupid was that ploughing boy
With coulter sharp and keen.

If I should write a letter,

1.

As I walked out one May morning,
When May was all in bloom,
Oh there I spied a bold fisherman,
Come fishing all alone.

2.

I said to this bold fisherman
" How come you fishing here? "
" I'm fishing for your own sweet sake
All down the river clear. "

3.

He drove his boat towards the side,
Which was his full intent,
Then he laid hold of her lily-white hand
And down the stream they went.

4.

Then he pulled off his morning gown
And threw it over the sea,

As I walked out one May morning,
One May morning early,
'Twas then I spied a pretty maid
So handsome and so clever.

With my rue, rum, ray
Fol the riddle ay
Whack fa loora lido

Her shoes were black, her stockings white,
And her buckles shone like silver;
She had a dark and rolling eye,
And her hair hung down her shoulders.

" How old are you, my pretty fair maid,
How old are you, my honey?"
She answered me quite cheerfully,
" I am seventeen come Sunday."

" Will you marry me, my pretty fair maid,

As I walked out one morning
All in the month of May,
Down through some flowery gardens
I carelessly did stray.
I overheard a damsel
In sorrow to complain
Now for her absent lover
That ploughs the raging main.

I stepped up to this fair maid,
I put her in surprise,
I own she did not know me,
I being dressed in disguise.
Says I: " My lovely maiden,
My joy and heart's delight,
How far have you to wander
This dark and dreary night?"

" All the way, kind sir, to Claudy,
If you will please to show

As I walked out one cold winter night,
And drinking good old wine,
A-thinking of that pretty little girl,
That stole this heart of mine —

And she looks like some pink rose
That blooms in the month of June,
And now she's like some instrument
Been newly put in tune.

I asked your mamma for you, my love;
She said you were too young.
I wish I'd never seen your face,
Or had died when I was young.

Oh, who will shoe your little feet,
And who will glove your hand,
Oh, who will kiss your ruby lips,

As I walked out in the streets of Laredo,
As I walked out in Laredo one day,
I spied a poor cowboy wrapped up in white linen,
Wrapped up in white linen as cold as the clay.

"Oh beat the drum slowly and play the fife lowly,
Play the Dead March as you carry me along;
Take me to the green valley, there lay the sod o'er me,
For I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong.

"I see by your outfit that you are a cowboy'--
These words he did say as I boldly stepped by.
"Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story,

From a junto that labour for absolute power,
Whose schemes disappointed have made them look sowr,
From the lords of the council, who fight against freedom,
Who still follow on where the devil shall lead 'em.

From the group at St. James's, that slight our Petitions,
And fools that are waiting for further submissions —
From a nation whose manners are rough and abrupt,
From scoundrels and rascals whom gold can corrupt.

From pirates sent out by command of the king
To murder and plunder, but never to swing.

As I walked by a forest side,
I met with a foster; he bad me abide.

At a place where he me set,
He bad me, what time an hart I met,
That I shuld let slip and say " Go bet!"
With " Hay! go bet! Hay! go bet! Hay! go bet! How!"
We shall have game and sport ynow.

I had not stond there but a while,
Ye, not the montenance of a mile,
But a gret hart came renning, without any gile.
With " There he goth! There he goth! There he goth! How!"
We shall have game and sport ynow.

I had no sooner my houndes let go,