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 Now he's gone o'er the raging ocean,

where foaming billows loudly roar,

In stormy ruins in many nations,

I fear I ne'er shall see him more.

My true love was tall and handsome,

straight and proper in every limb;

Could I but obtain the King's ransom,

I ne'er would fancy one but him.

He was affable and good temper'd,

his colour like the damask rose.

His hair's as black s aas a [sic] raven's feather,

his eyes as black as any sloe.

Neptune conduct my dearest jewel,

home from the raging main,

And ease my heart that burns like fuel,

for fear I ne'er shall see him again.

When the stormy wind's are blowing,

it fills my heart with woe.

When on my pillow little knowing,

what dangers my love undergo.

But not my Jamie's safe return'd,

and cured my of all my pain;

Like fuel of my heart has burn'd,

for hear I'd ne'er see him again.