As William and Mary stood by the seashore Their last farewell to take, Returning no more, little Mary she said, "Why surely my heart will break." "Oh, don't be dismayed, little Mary," he said, As he pressed the dear girl to his side, "In my absence don't mourn, for when I return I'll make little Mary my bride."
Three years passed on without any news. One day as she stood by the door A beggar passed by with a patch on his eye, "I'm home, oh, do pity, my love; Have compassion on me, your friend I will be. Your fortune I'll tell besides. The lad you mourn will never return To make little Mary his bride."
She startled and trembled and then she did say, "All the fortune I have I freely give If what I ask you will tell unto me,-- Say, does young William yet live?" "He lives and is true and poverty poor, And shipwreck has suffered beside; He'll return no more, because he is poor, To make little Mary his bride."
"No tongue can tell the joy I do feel Although his misfortune I mourn, And he's welcome to me though poverty poor, His jacket all tattered and torn. I love him so dear, so true and sincere, I'll have no other beside; Those with riches enrobed and covered with gold Can't make little Mary their bride."
The beggar then tore the patch from his eye, His crutches he laid by his side, Coat, jacket and bundle; cheeks red as a rose, 'Twas William that stood by her side. "Then excuse me, dear maid," to her he said, "It was only your love I tried." So he hastened away at the close of the day To make little Mary his bride.