House Carpenter

“Well met, well met, my own true love
Well met, well met,” cried he
“I've just returned from the salt, salt sea
And it's all for the love of thee

“Oh I could have married the king's daughter dear
And she would have married me
But I have refused the crown of gold
And it's all for the love of thee.”

“If you could have married the king's daughter dear
I'm sure you are to blame
For I am married to the house carpenter
And he is a fine young man.”

“Oh, if you'll forsake your house carpenter
And come along with me
I'll take you to where the grass grows green
On the banks of Italy.”

“If I forsake my house carpenter
And come along with thee
Oh, what have you got to maintain me upon
And to keep me from slavery?”

“Oh, I've six ships sailing on the salt sea
A-sailing from dry land
And a hundred and twenty jolly young men
Shall be at your command.”

Oh, she picked up her poor wee babe
And kisses she gave him three
Saying, “Stay right here with the house carpenter
And keep him company.”

So she dressed herself in her gay clothing
Most glorious to behold
And as she trod the salt water's side
Oh she shone like glittering gold

She set her foot upon the ship
No mariners could behold
The sails were of the shining silk
The masts of beaten gold

They had not been two weeks at sea
I'm sure it was not three
When this poor maid began to weep
And she wept most bitterly

“Oh do you weep for your gold,” he said
“Your houses, your land, or your store?
Or do you weep for your house carpenter
That you never shall see no more?”

“I do not weep for my gold,” she said
“My houses, my land, or my store
But I do weep for my poor wee babe
That I shall never see more.”

They had not been three weeks at sea
I'm sure it was not four
When in their ship there sprang a leak
And she sank to the ocean floor

“What hills, what hills are those, my love
That are so bright and free?”
“Oh, those are the hill of Heaven, my love
But they're not for you and me.”

“What hills, what hills, are those, my love
That are so dark and low?”
“Oh, those are the hills of Hell, my love
Where you and I must go.”

Chansons les plus populaires [artist_preposition] Martin Simpson

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