As Willie and Mary met by the seaside A long farewell for to take Said Mary to Willie, "If you go away I'm afraid my poor heart, it might break" "Oh don't be afraid, dearest Mary," he said As he clasped his fond maid to his side "In my absence don't mourn, for when I return I will make you, sweet Mary, my bride"
Seven long years had passed and no word at last Mary stood by her own cottage door A beggar came by with a patch on his eye Bedraggled and ragged and tore "Your charity, fair maid, bestow upon me Your fortune I'll tell you beside Your lad that you mourn will never return To make little Mary his bride"
She slipped and she started, saying, "All that I have It's freely to you I will give If you tell me true what I now ask of you Is my Willie dead or alive?" "He's living," said he, "though in sad poverty And shipwrecked he has been beside When he'd money untold and pockets of gold He'd have made little Mary his bride"
"Then if he is dead, no other I'll wed No other I'll have by my side For in riches though rolled or covered with gold He'd have made his own Mary his bride" Then the patch off his eye the old beggar let fly His old coat and crutches beside And in sailor's blue clothes and with cheeks like the rose It was Willie who stood by her side
"Oh don't be afraid, dearest Mary," he said "It was only your faith that I tried To the church we'll away by the break of the day And I'll make sweet Mary my bride"