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And the lowlands of Holland
hath twin’d my love and me.
New Holland is a bonny place,
but it is scant of men,
Yet to conquer New-England,
is what they do intend:
For there is none can win them,
for well they know the seas
And the lowlands of Holland
hath twin’d my love and me.
Be still, be still my daughter,
be still and be content:
There are more lads in Galloway,
thou needs not so lament.
O there are none in Galloway,
not one that longs for me
For I lov’d ne’er a love but one,
who’s drowned in the sea.
He was my comely proper youth,
I lov’d him for my part,
But death has ta’en him from me,
which sore affects my heart;
And since that he’s departed
I’ll mourn and weep always,
That e’er he went to Holland,
that was my earthly joys.
Unto the grave that he has gone,
who was my comely dear,
May heav’n receive my soul to rest,
and guide me while I’m here.
