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Ast Sunday morning, we went to sea,

With a sweet and pleasant gale,

My lovely Molly's white and red,

Was turn'd to deadly pale.

But if fortune fend me safe on shore,

I'll cherish Molly's heart once more.

Fal lal de ral, &c.

She has a long and slender waist,

Her breast as white as snow,

She has a kind and am’rous look,

And her mind with wit doth flow!

She’s in her humour frank and free,

And sings with a sweet melody.

Fal lal de ral, &c.

When we were on the raging main,

Drinking good wine and beer,

at other times with a bowl of punch,

Our Sailor’s hearts to cheer:

Yet none of these so pleaseth me,

s when in my Molly's company.

Fal lal de rah &c.

When I go to the top-mast head,

For some strange mast to spy,

Set my face towards the shore,

And calls a watchful eye:

oping my dearest for to see,

Come rowing in a boat to me.

Fal lal de ral, &c.