Nic Jones - The Noble Lord Hawkins текст песни

As noble Lord Hawkins a-hunting did ride,
His horse and his gun and his sword by his side,
As he was a-riding he chanced to see
A pretty young woman: her name was Polly
A pretty young woman: her name was Polly.

"Oh Polly, oh Polly, my butler shall be
To pour out my wine and to wait upon me.
But to pour out my wine and to wait upon me,
How does that take you my pretty Polly?
How does that take you my pretty Polly?"

"Oh noble Lord Hawkins, don't talk so bold,
I'll not be your woman for silver or gold.
For I have a petticoat suits my degree
And I'll n'er have a married man till his wife dies
And I'll n'er have a married man till his wife dies."

"Then Polly, oh Polly, lend me your penknife
And I'll go right home and I'll kill my old wife.
Why I'll kill my old wife and her children three
And then will you love me, my pretty Polly?
And then will you love me, my pretty Polly?"

"Oh noble Lord Hawkins don't you say so,
But go to your wife and let nobody know.
Go to your wife and your children three
And seven long years I will tarry for thee
And seven long years I will tarry for thee."

And these seven long years they were over and past,
The lady she goes and dies at last.
And the very same day the old lady did die,
He went a-courting of pretty Polly
He went a-courting of pretty Polly.

And so now she's a nobleman's lady so high,
Along with young Hawkins she do ride.
And all you young ladies come following me
Come to the wedding of pretty Polly.
For six pretty maidens so neat and so trim
Shall dance at my wedding on Monday morning
Dance at my wedding on Monday morning.