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Jimmy, dearest Jimmy
As I rode out one May morning along the riverside,
a-walking all around there an Irish girl I spied,
oh, red and rosy were her cheeks and yellow was her hair,
and costly were those robes of gold that Irish girl did wear.


Saying, Jimmy, dearest Jimmy, by the marks of the bramble tree,
are you going to leave me here alone for to thank your own Molly?

And if I were in Dublin town a-sporting on the grass,
on each hip a bottle of wine and on each knee a lass,
I would call for liquor merrily and I'd pray before I go,
I would roll you in my arms, Molly, let the wind blow high or low.


And if I were a butterfly, I would light on my love's breast,
and if I were a linnet, I would sing my love to the rest,
and if I were a nightingale, I would sing to the morning clear,
I would sing to you, Molly, for it's once I loved you dear.


Let the wind blow high or low brave lads, let the seas run mountains high,
for it's a seaman's duty at the helm there to stand by,
oh it takes two men to reef and steer, the chief of all our cares,
and when our main decks are secured, no danger do we fear.

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