Classic Poem

A sailor's life is a merry life,
They'll rob young girls of their hearts' delight.
They'll go and leave them to sigh and moan,
No tongue can tell when they will return.

‘Four and twenty sailors all in one row,
And my sweet William is the finest of all.
He's proper, tall and gentle withal,
And if I don't have him I'll have none at all.’

She had not sailed far upon the deep
Before a Queen's ship she chanced to meet.
‘O all you jolly sailors, come tell me true,
Is my sweet William on board with you?’

‘Oh no, fair lady, he is not here,
He is a-drownded, greatly is my fear.
On the islands high when the wind blew high
There we lost sight of your sailor boy.’

She sailed home and wrote a song,
She wrote it wide and she wrote it long.
And at every line, oh she shed a tear,
And at the end, ‘I shall lose my dear.

‘O father, father, come dig my grave,
Dig it wide, both long and deep,
And on my tombstone put two turtle doves
So the world might see that I died for love.’

She wrung her hands and tore her hair
Just like a lady in deep despair.
She flung her body down in the deep,
In her true love's arms she fell fast asleep.