O! when that the merchant these tidings did hear, Upon the young sailor, he vengeance did swear; He says, your true love shall no more plough the sea, For before to-morrow morning his butcher I’ll be. O, when that she heard her own father say so, Her mind was o’erwhelmed with sorrow and woe; She thought to herself, If I could see my dear, I quickly would warn him of the danger that’s near. In a suit of bold sailors apparel complete, She dressed herself from the head to the feet, With pumps on her feet, and a cane in her hand, She met her dear William as he walked through the Strand. She says, My dear William, O, instantly flee, For my father doth swear that your butcher he’ll be, So straight unto Dover, I’d have you repair, And in forty-eight hours, I’ll meet you there. As he kiss’d her fair cheek, the tear stood in each eye, She says I will save you, or else I will die. Then straightway she gave him a handful of gold, And she marched up the street like a sailor so bold. She, meeting her father, as she walked up the Strand, He mistook her for William, saying, You are the man, A Sword from his side then he instantly drew, And her beautiful body he pierc’d it quite through. When he found what he’d done, he sunk down in despair, He wringed his hands, and he tore off his hair, Crying, wretched monster, Oh! what have I done? I have killed the flower of fair London town. Then up from the ground he did instantly start, And leaned on his sword, till he pierced his heart; Forgive me, he cried, as he drew his last breath, Then he closed his eyes in the cold arms of death. Now when that young William the tidings did hear, He died broken hearted by grief and despair, Thus father, and daughter, and a young sailor bold, Met an untimely death for the sake of curs’d gold. _RILEY’S FAREWELL._ AS I rov’d out one evening down by a river side, I heard a lovely maid complain, the tears fell from her eyes, It is a cold and stormy night, these words she did say, My love is on the raging sea, bound for America. My love, he was a sailor bold, his age was scarce sixteen, He was as nice a young man, as ever you did see, My father he has riches great, and Riley he was poor, Because I loved this sailor, they could not him endure. Riley was my love’s name,--he liv’d down by the sea, My mother took me by the hand, and these words she did say, If you be fond of Riley, let him leave this country, Your father says he’ll take his life, or shun his company. Oh! mother dear, don’t be severe, where shall I find my love, My very heart lies in his breast, as constant as a Dove. Oh, daughter dear, I’m not severe, there is one thousand pound, Send Riley to America, to purchase there some ground.