On our farmer's daughter living near
A dreadful story you soon shall hear
All off to
London she made her way
For she was bound to serve
it made to be
She went until she come
unto some squires
Alling loudly there she did knock and call
I hear you want to serve and she said
Well I am
Betsy, you serve in
May
And the squire had one only son
And very soon
Betsy's heart he won
But
Betsy being both blind and fair,
This poor boy's heart she didn't snare.
So on
Sunday evening he took his time,
An d unto
Betsy he told his mind.
He swore by oats,
he swore by stars above,
Did you sweet
Betsy, did you I love?
But the old woman hearing him say so,
It filled her heart with
both grief and woe.
Oh, we must contrive to send her away to be a slave all in
her married cave
So on
Monday morning this old wo
man arose crying,
Betsy go gather up your clothes
I am going, some friends
to see and only you
Betsy shall go with me
They went until they'd come unto
some seaport town
Ships were sailing all up and down
A ship was hailed and in she went
Poor
Betsy sailored then in discon tent
A few days later this old woman come home,
It's welcome home,
mother cried her son,
Welcome home,
mother on every side,
But where is
Betsy, the serving man?
Oh son, oh son, oh son,
said she,
Your heart's delight is all on the sea,
For I'd rather see my son lying dead,
Than see him married to a serving man.
A few days later this poor boy fell sick, so very sad,
all in bed was he.
They could not cure him,
though all they tried, he called on
Betsy and then he died.
And when she saw her son lying dead,
she wrung her hands and she tore her head.
If I could see my son rise again,
I'd send for
Betsy and cross the
Man.
you
You