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.