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Lowlands Of Holland

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LOWLANDS OF HOLLAND

Last night I was a-married, and on my marriage bed
Up comes a bold sea captain and stood at my bed-head:
Saying - Arise, arise, you married man, and come along with me
To the lowlands of Holland, to fight your enemy

She held her true love in her arms, still thinking he might stay
But the Captain gave another shout, and he was forced away -
O it's many a blithe young married man this night must go with me
To the lowlands of Holland, for to fight the enemy

O Holland is a wondrous place, and in it grows much green
It's a wild inhabitation for my true love to be in
There the sugar cane grows plentiful and the fruit on every tree
But the lowlands of Holland is between my love and me

But Ireland is a better place, a land of springy turf
And all around McGilligan is the thunder of the surf
And I would wish my true true love in Ireland for to be
But the lowlands of Holland is between my love and me

No shoes nor stockings I put on nor comb went in my hair
And neither coal nor candle-light shone in my chamber there
Nor will I marry with any young man until the day I die
Since the lowlands of Holland are between my love and me
LOWLANDS OF HOLLAND

THE SORROWFUL LOVER'S REGRATE
LOWLANDS OF HOLLAND

The very day I was married,
That night I lay on my bed;
A press gang came to my bedside
These words to me they said:
Arise, arise, arise, young man,
And come along with me, with me,
To the low, low lands of Holland,
To face your enemy.

But Holland is a cold place,
A place where grows no green,
And Holland is a cold place
For my love to wander in.
Though money had been as plentiful
As leaves upon the tree, the tree
Yet before I'd time to turn myself
My love was stol'n from me.

I'll build my love a gallant ship,
A ship of noted fame.
With four and twenty seamen bold
To box her on the main.
They'll rant and roar in sparkling glee,
Where some ever they do go, do go,
To the low, low lands of Holland,
To face the daring foe.

Says the mother to the daughter;
What makes you to lament?
O there are lords and dukes and squires
Can ease your heart's content.
But never will I married be
Until the day I die, I die,
since the low, low lands of Holland
Have parted my love and me.

There's not a swaithe goes round my waist
Nor comb goes in my hair,
Neither firelight nor candle light
Can ease my heart's despair.
And never will I married be
Until the day I die, I die
Since the low, low lands of Holland
Have parted my love and me.


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