Bronson's Text #103, titled "WELL MET, MY OLD TRUE LOVE" sung by Mrs. Pearl Jacobs Borusky, Antigo, Wisc., 1940, collected by Robert F. Draves - from Bronson Vol. 3, p 476.

Well met, well met, my old true love
Well met, well met said he
I have just returned from the salt, salt sea
And it's all for the sake of thee.
And it's all for the sake of thee.

I once could have married a king's daughter fair
And she would have married me
But I refused that rich crown of gold
And it's all for the sake of thee.
And it's all for the sake of thee.

If you could have married a king's daughter fair
I'm sure you are much to blame
For I am married to a house carpenter
And I think he's a fine young man.
And I think he's a fine young man.

If you'll forsake your house carpenter
And go along with me
I will take you where the grass grows green
On the banks of the sweet Willie.
On the banks of the sweet Willie.

If I forsake my house carpenter
And go along with thee
What have you got for my support
And to keep me from slavery?
And to keep me from slavery?

I have six ships upon the sea
And the seventh one at the land
And if you come and go with me
They shall be at your command.
They shall be at your command.

She took her babe into her arms
And gave it kisses three
Saying, stay at home my pretty little babe
To keep your father company.
To keep your father company.

She dressed herself in rich array
To exceed all others in the town
And as she walked the streets around
She shone like a glittering crown.
She shone like a glittering crown.

They had not been on board more than two weeks
I'm sure it was not three
Until one day she began to weep
And she wept most bitterly.
And she wept most bitterly.

O are you weeping for your houses or your land?
Or are you weeping for your store?
Or are you weeping for your house carpenter
You never shall see any more?
That you never shall see any more?

I'm not weeping for my houses or my land
Nor I'm not weeping for my store
But I am weeping for my pretty little babe
I never shall see any more.
I never shall see any more.

They had not been on board more than three weeks
It was not four, I am sure
Until at length the ship sprung a leak
And she sunk to arise no more.
And she sunk to arise no more.

A curse, a curse to all seamen
And a curse to a sailor's wife
For they have robbed me of my house carpenter
And have taken away my life.
And have taken away my life.

Regards,
John