The Sea Captain- (AR) pre1946 Garrison
[From: Some Survivals of British Balladry among Ozark Folk Songs by Theodore Garrison; The Arkansas Historical Quarterly, Vol. 5, No. 3 (Autumn, 1946), pp. 246-262. Garrison gives no information about this version and says:
"The Sea Captain", known also as "The House Carpenter", is another old British ballad that has survived in the Arkansas Ozarks as well as in other places in America.
Clearly the opening stanza makes no sense as a dialogue (as found in many versions) unless the female is a "sea captain" or this is a homosexual relationship -haha. Later on we find that it is a she, not a he- so it's safe to assume there's no dialogue in stanza 1 and "demon lover" is the sea captain.
R. Matteson 2013]
The Sea Captain- (AR) pre1946 Garrison
"Well met, well met," said a sea captain,
"Well met, well met," said he.
"I have just come back from the salt, salty sea,
And it's all for the sake of thee.
"Will you forsake your house carpenter
And go along with me?
I'll take you where the grass grows green
On the banks of the Sweet Willee."
"If I'd forsake my house carpenter
To go along with thee,
What have you got to maintain me on
Or to keep me from slavery?"
"I have six ships that sails upon the sea
And seven more, I'm sure;
Six nice little sailor boys that sail along with me,
And they're all to wait upon thee."
She went into her little room
And dressed in silk so gay;
She spread on a dark green veil
Outshined the glittering day.
She called up her tender little babes
And kisses give them three.
"You stay at home with your papa so dear,
For he's good company."
They hadn't been a-sailing but a very short time -
Two weeks, it was not three -
When this fair lady she began to weep,
And she wept most bitterly.
"Are you weeping now for gold?" cried he.
"Are you weeping now for fear?
Are you weeping for your house carpenter
That you left when you came with me here?"
"I'm weeping not for gold," cried she.
"I'm weeping not for fear.
I'm weeping for my tender little babes
That I left when I came with you here."
"What banks, what banks so far before,
As white as any snow?"
"It's the banks of heaven, Lord Loving," cried she,
"Where all good Christian people go."
"What banks, what banks so far behind,
As black as any crow ?"
"It's the banks of hell, Lord Loving," cried she,
"Where you and I must go."