Northlands

This pretty young boy
Came from the Northlands
And he came a-wooing me
And he promised he'd take me
Down by the northland
And there he'd marry me
And go get some of your mother's own gold

And more of your daddy's fee
And two of he best horses from out your stable door
Where there were thirty and three
They rode down til
They came to the north strand
For to watch all the old ways a-going by
Get it down, Get it down
Little Polly, he cried
Get it down, get it down

Cried he
For it's six pretty babes
I've have drowned here
And the seventh one you shall be
Your silks and your satins
You must take them off
And deliver them unto me
If it's my silks and my satins
I must take them off
Please turn your back unto me
And he turned his back
Unto the north strand

For to watch all the old ways a-going by
And she clipped him round by the middle so small
And she flung him right into the deep
And he swam high, and he swam low
And he swam until he came to the seashore
For one hold of your hand
Pretty polly he cried
Sure a sentence
I'll make you my bride

And it's Stop where you are
You false-hearted man
And it's stop where you are, cried she
For I think you have been to
For a naked young woman like me
And she mounted upon
Her milk white steed
And she led the old dapple grey
And she rode down
Til she came to her father's old door
It was three long hours 'fore day
And what ails you, what ails you
Her father, he cried
What have you home before day?
Hold tongue, hold tongue
The Polly, she cried
Do not tell any tales by me
For your cage shall be made
Of the glittering gold
And your door of the grand ivory