My Gallant Brigantine

As I strolled onshore one evening, from my gallant

brigantine

To the island of Jamaica, where I had lately been

So carelessly I rambled, not caring where I went

Down by some rich plantation, my course I slowly

went.

My people out in old Ireland are spending their time

at ease

While I'm out doing my foolishness, plowing the raging

seas

While I'm out doing my foolishness, plowing both night

and day

I will sing you a song of old Ireland, to pass the

cares away.

And when my song was finished, my mind seemed more at

ease

I rose to pick some oranges that hung down from the

trees

I rose to pick some oranges that hung before my eyes

When a female form attracted me, and filled me with

surprise

The dress she wore it was snowy white, her spanker, it

was green

A silken shawl hung 'round her neck, her shoulders for

to screen

Her hair hung down in ringlets brown, her eyes was

like the coals

She wore the face of an innocent, her cheeks was like

the rose

I gently stepped up to her, "Good morning my fair

pretty maid"

And with a kind and gentle voice, "Good morning sir,

she said

I see you are a stranger here, has lately come from

sea"

"O, yes, I belong to that brigantine, lies anchored in

the bay"

We both sat down upon the ground and chatted for a

while

I told her of some happy hours, which caused her for

to smile

And as she rose to go away, unto me she said this;

"Won't you come and meet my husband, he will treat you

of the best"

She kindly introduced me to a noble looking man

Who modestly saluted me and took me by the hand

The wine was on the table, dinner served quite soon

We three sat down together, spent a jolly good

afternoon

And now my song is finished, I am going to leave this

land

My name is Edward Howler, I belongs to Newfoundland

Three years ago I leaved that shore, my troubles they

began

And 'twas all about a fair pretty girl, belong to

another man.