6
For every blow I gave him ten,
And ask’d would he be jealous again;
No, no, no, no, my loving wife,
If you will now but spare my life.
THE CHIEFTAIN’S DAUGHTER
Boatman, boatman, row me over,
Row me over the flowing tide;
Nought but thanks have I to offer.
Thou shalt have gold when I’m a bride;
Lady, not for gold I crave thee,
But the night is wild and dark,
And in such an angry water,
I do dread to launch my bark.
Boatman, boatman, row me over, &c.
Boatman, ’tis not wind or water
That can turn a maiden’s vow;
Know’st thou I’m Lord Ronald's daughter?
Boatman, wilt thou venture now?
Lady fair, an old man blame not,
I have wife and children three,
But to serve my chieftain’s daughter,
I will brave the storm for thee.
Boatman, ’tis not wind or water, &c.
Now the bark hath kiss’d the billow,
Like some wild bird it flies to shore;
A hand hath ta’en Lord Ronald’s daughter.
And the boatman returns with gold in store.
