THREE SONGS

You hold me for a day, my dear, I lose you for a life, And that’s the sailor’s way, my dear, A love, but not a wife. ’Tis never I will blame you, ’Tis not my eyes are wet, But ’tis I that must remember— ’Tis you that will forget. You kiss me for a night, my dear, I kiss you for the years, And that’s the sailor’s right, my dear, And life’s too short for tears. ’Tis never I will stay you When once the moon has set, But ’tis I that must remember— ’Tis you that will forget.

One came chasing the fallow deer When all the wood was green, But through my heart an arrow went That ne’er by him was seen— Ah me! That ne’er by him was seen. One came hunting the eagle-king When all the wood was brown, But over me a lure was cast That dragged my proud heart down— Ah me! That dragged my proud heart down. One came tracking the mighty boar When all the wood was white, But from my wound the red drops fell That guided him that night— Ah me! That guided him that night.

My heart it was a cup of gold That at his lip did long to lie, But he hath drunk the red wine down, And tossed the goblet by. My heart it was a floating bird That through the world did wander free, But he hath locked it in a cage, And lost the silver key. My heart it was a white, white rose That bloomed upon a broken bough, He did but wear it for an hour, And it is withered now.