THE FREEBOOTER’S LAMENT

If we go to the Northlands, my love
Through beech and spruce and larch
I’ll catch me a white white goose
My love, to plead my humble cause.
She’ll give me a feather
In indigo berries dipped
And fly to your side, my love
To humbly beg your pardon.

If we go Eastwards, my love
Along mighty rivers and falls
I’ll catch me a green green finch
My love, to plead my hopeful cause.
She’ll give me a feather
With which to fashion a ring
And fly to your side, my love
In hope that you’ll give consent.

If we go down South, my love
Over desert and pyramid and drought
I’ll catch me a blue blue crane
My love, to plead my happy cause.
She’ll give me her feathers
To keep our children warm
And fly to your side, my love
To pray for your deliverance.

But if I go West, my love
You’ll hear nothing from me
I’ll be at the bottom of the briny briny sea, my love
The bottom of the briny briny sea.

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