I have yet another version:

Oh, Amble is a fine town with ships about the bay
And I'm fain and very fain to be there myself today
Yes I'm wishing in my heart I were far away from here
A-sitting in the parlor and talking to my dear
(cho)And it's home, dearie, home,
Oh, it's home I long to be
My topsails are hoisted and I'm about to sea
For the oak, and the ash, and the bonny birchen tree
Are all a-growing green in the North country
And it's home, dearie, home

Her letter comes at last, yet somehow I cannot speak
Though the proud and happy tears they go rolling down my cheek
There's someone here, she writes, you'll be longing for to see
With your merry hazel eyes smiling up from off my knee (Cho)

Oh, if it be a lass, she shall wear a golden ring
And if it be a lad, he shall live to serve his king
With his buckles, and his boots, and his little jacket blue
He shall walk the quarterdeck like his daddy used to do (cho)

I think I have it by Alan Mills, but not sure.

There are lots of songs with "skipping up the rigging" instead of "walk the quarterdeck"