As I was a-walking one midsummer's morning
As I was a-walking along the highway
When who should I see but my own dearest daughter
With her head wrapped in flannel on a hot summer's day.

Oh mother, dear mother, come sit you down by me
Come sit you down by me and pity my plight
For my body is injured and sadly disordered
All by a young sailor one bright starlit night.

Had he but told me when he did disorder me
Had he but told me about it in time
I could have got salts and pills of white mercury
But now I'm cut down in the height of my prime.

And when I am dead to the churchyard they'll bear me
With six jolly fellows to carry me on
And in each of their hands a bunch of green laurel
So that they may not smell me as they march along.
(So they may protect me as they march along.)

So rattle your drum and play your fife lowly
And sing the dead march as we walk all along
Then pray on your knees and think of that young girl
Oh there goes a poor young girl cut down in her prime.