House Carpenter- Parker (AR) 1958 Hunter REC
[From: Max Hunter Folk Song Collection. The last verse is a floating verse from the Lonesome Dove/Turtle Dove songs.
R. Matteson 2013]
House Carpenter- As sung by Mrs. Allie Long Parker, Eureka Springs, Arkansas on September 2, 1958
Listen: http://maxhunter.missouristate.edu/songinformation.aspx?ID=0198
VERSE 1
We met, we met, my own true love
We met, we met, cried he,
I've jest returned from the salt, salt sea
And it's all for the love of thee
VERSE 2
I could have married a king's daughter
I'm sure she'd a married me,
But strings of gold I didn't refuse
And it's all for the love of thee.
VERSE 3
If you could'a' married a kings daughter
I'm sure you are to blame,
For I'm married to a house carpenter
And I'm sure he's a nice young man.
VERSE 4
Won't you forsake your house carpenter
And go along with me
I'll take you to where the grass grows green
On the banks of the sweet lily
VERSE 5
If I forsake my house carpenter
And go along with you
What have you there to maintain me upon
And to keep me from slavery
VERSE 6
O, don't you see them seven ships
A sailing for dry land
There's a hundred and ten of the finest waiting men
And they'll all be at your command
VERSE 7
She pick-ed up her precious little babe
An' kisses gave it three,
Saying, stay here, stay here, my precious little babe
Keep your papa company.
VERSE 8
They had not been at sea two weeks
I'm sure it was not three
Till this fair damsel began to weep
And she wept most bitterly
VERSE 9
What are you weeping for my gold
Or is it for my store
Or is it for your house carpenter
That you left on old England shore
VERSE 10
I'm neither weeping for your gold
Nor is it for your store
I'm weeping for my precious little babe
That I never shall see any more
VERSE 11
They had not been on sea three weeks
I'm sure it was not four
Till under the decks there sprang a leak
And she sank to rise no more
VERSE 12
O curse, O curse, all seamen, cried she
O curse, them unto me
They have robbed me of my house carpenter
And now they are drowning me
VERSE 13
O, don't you see that turtle dove
A flying from vine to vine
He's mourning for his own true love
Jest like I mourn for mine.