House Carpenter

(Other titles: "James Harris", "The Daemon Lover")
(Trad. English/Scottish)


             Well met, well met,
                my own true love
             Well met, well met, cried he
             I've just returned from the 
                salt, salt sea
             And it's all for the love of thee

             O I could have married the
                king's daughter dear
             And she would have married me
             But I have refused the 
                crown of gold
             And it's all for the sake of thee

             If you could have married the king's
                daughter dear
             I'm sure you are to blame
             For I am married to the
                house carpenter
             And he is a fine young man

             If you'll forsake your
                house carpenter
             And come away with me
             I'll take you to where the 
                grass grows green
             On the banks of the sweet Willie

             If I forsake my house carpenter
             And come away with thee
             What have you got to maintain
                me upon
             And keep me from slavery


             I've six ships sailing on the
                salt, salt sea
             A-sailing from dry land
             And a hundred and twenty 
                jolly young men
             Shall be at thy command

             She picked up her poor wee babe
             And kisses gave him three
             Saying stay right here with the
                house carpenter
             And keep him good company


             They had not been at sea
                two weeks
             I'm sure it was not three
             When this poor maid began to weep
             And she wept most bitterly


             O do you weep for your gold,
                he said
             Your houses, your land, or
                your store?
             Or do you weep for your
                house carpenter
             That you never shall see anymore

             I do not weep for my gold,
                she said
             My houses, my land or my store
             But I do weep for my 
                poor wee babe
             That I never shall see anymore

             They had not been at sea
                three weeks
             I'm sure it was not four
             When in their ship there 
                sprang a leak
             And she sank to rise no more


             What hills, what hills are those,
                my love
             That are so bright and free
             Those are the hill of Heaven,
                my love
             But not for you and me

             What hills, what hills, are those,
                my love
             That are so dark and low
             Those are the hills of Hell,
                my love
             Where you and I must go