Graih my Chree

She was Joney, the rich man’s only child, He was Juan, a son of the sea. “Thy father hath cast me forth of his door, But, poor as I am, to his teeth I swore I should wed thee, O graih my chree.”

He broke a ring and gave her the half, And she buried it close at her heart. “I must leave thee, love of my soul,” he said, “But I vow by our troth that living or dead, I will come back rich to thine arms and thy bed, And fetch thee as sure as we part.”

He sailed to the north, he sailed to the south, He sailed to the foreign strand, But whether he touched on the icy cone Or the coral reef of the Indian zone, It turned to a golden land.

And he cried to his crew, “Hoist sail and about, For no more do I need to roam; I have silks and satins and lace and gold, I have treasure as deep as my ship will hold To win me a wife at home.”

They had not sailed but half of their course To the haven where they would be, When the devil beguiled their barque on a rock, And down it sank with a woeful shock On the banks of Italy.

Then over the roar of the clamorous waves The skipper his voice was heard, “I vowed by our troth that dead or alive I should come back yet to wed and to wive, And by t’ Lady I keep my word.