As I rode over London Bridge
One misty morning early,
I overheard a tender hearted girl
Plead for the life of Geordie.
Now Geordie robbed no store-houses,
He never murdered any.
He only shot a King's white deer
All for to feed his fam'ly.
Then the judge looked over his left shoulder
And thus he says to Geordie:
“By your confession you shall hang
And the Lord have mercy upon you.”
The Geordie he looked around the court
And saw his dearest Polly,
Said he, “My love, you've come too late,
For I'm condemned already.”
There's six prety babes I've born to you
And the seventh lies in my body,
But freely would I part with them
To spare the life of Geordie.
Then Geordie he walked around the court
And said farewell to many,
But the leaving of his own true luve
That grieved him worst of any.
Let Geordie hang in golden chains,
His crimes they were not many,
He only shot a king's white deer
All for to feed his fam'ly.
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