My Gallant Brigantine

As I strolled onshore one evening, from my gallant
 brigantine
 To the island of Jamaica, where I had lately been
 So carelessly I rambled, not caring where I went
 Down by some rich plantation, my course I slowly
 went.
 My people out in old Ireland are spending their time
 at ease
 While I'm out doing my foolishness, plowing the raging
 seas
 While I'm out doing my foolishness, plowing both night
 and day
 I will sing you a song of old Ireland, to pass the
 cares away.
 And when my song was finished, my mind seemed more at
 ease
 I rose to pick some oranges that hung down from the
 trees
 I rose to pick some oranges that hung before my eyes
 When a female form attracted me, and filled me with
 surprise
 The dress she wore it was snowy white, her spanker, it
 was green
 A silken shawl hung 'round her neck, her shoulders for
 to screen
 Her hair hung down in ringlets brown, her eyes was
 like the coals
 She wore the face of an innocent, her cheeks was like
 the rose
 I gently stepped up to her, "Good morning my fair
 pretty maid"
 And with a kind and gentle voice, "Good morning sir,
 she said
 I see you are a stranger here, has lately come from
 sea"
 "O, yes, I belong to that brigantine, lies anchored in
 the bay"
 We both sat down upon the ground and chatted for a
 while
 I told her of some happy hours, which caused her for
 to smile
 And as she rose to go away, unto me she said this;
 "Won't you come and meet my husband, he will treat you
 of the best"
 She kindly introduced me to a noble looking man
 Who modestly saluted me and took me by the hand
 The wine was on the table, dinner served quite soon
 We three sat down together, spent a jolly good
 afternoon
 And now my song is finished, I am going to leave this
 land
 My name is Edward Howler, I belongs to Newfoundland
 Three years ago I leaved that shore, my troubles they
 began
 And 'twas all about a fair pretty girl, belong to
 another man.