Willie and Mary

Willie And Mary

As Willie and Mary met by the seaside

A long farewell for to take

Said Mary to Willie, "If you go away

I'm afraid my poor heart, it might break"

"Oh don't be afraid, dearest Mary," he said

As he clasped his fond maid to his side

"In my absence don't mourn, for when I return

I will make you, sweet Mary, my bride"

Seven long years had passed and no word at last

Mary stood by her own cottage door

A beggar came by with a patch on his eye

Bedraggled and ragged and tore

"Your charity, fair maid, bestow upon me

Your fortune I'll tell you beside

Your lad that you mourn will never return

To make little Mary his bride"

She slipped and she started, saying, "All that I have

It's freely to you I will give

If you tell me true what I now ask of you

Is my Willie dead or alive?"

"He's living," said he, "though in sad poverty

And shipwrecked he has been beside

When he'd money untold and pockets of gold

He'd have made little Mary his bride"

"Then if he is dead, no other I'll wed

No other I'll have by my side

For in riches though rolled or covered with gold

He'd have made his own Mary his bride"

Then the patch off his eye the old beggar let fly

His old coat and crutches beside

And in sailor's blue clothes and with cheeks like the rose

It was Willie who stood by her side

"Oh don't be afraid, dearest Mary," he said

"It was only your faith that I tried

To the church we'll away by the break of the day

And I'll make little Mary my bride"