The Water of Tyne
I cannot get to my love if I should dee,
The water of Tyne runs between him and me;
And here I must stand with the tear in my e’e,
Both sighing and sickly, my sweetheart to see.
O where is the boatman, my bonny honey?
O where is the boatman?—bring him to me—
To ferry me over the Tyne to my honey,
And I will remember the boatman and thee.
O bring me a boatman—I’ll give any money,
(And you for your trouble rewarded shall be)
To ferry me over the Tyne to my honey,
Or scull him across that rough river to me!