Sailor Boy- Tom Sweetman (Dublin) 1817 Kennedy
[Kennedy says the book was written in 1856, and the events took place in 1816, 1817 before he came to Dublin. Id Kennedy's date of c.1617 is accurate then this is the earliest extant traditional version although it's impossible to tell the amount of editing Kennedy did or if the text was updated in 1856. From: The Banks of the Boro: A Chronicle of the County of Wexford by Patrick Kennedy (London: Simpkin, Marshall, 1867). "The Sailor Boy," (Oh! the sailing trade is a weary life) is sung by Tom Sweetman, a farm worker (Wexford, Ireland). See also the excerpt in The Dublin University Magazine, August, 1862. Reprinted in The Universal Irish Song Book: A Complete Collection of the Songs and edited by Patrick John Kennedy, NYC, 1898.
"Sailor Boy" sung by Tom Sweetman is a traditional variant reported from a wake held at an Irish pub by Patrick John Kennedy. It was first printed in The Dublin University Magazine, August, 1862. The text was printed again in The Banks of the Boro: A Chronicle of the County of Wexford (1867) and in New York in The Universal Irish Song Book: A Complete Collection of the Songs and edited by Patrick John Kennedy, 1898. The last stanza has been borrowed from the "Died for Love" songs and is a typical traditional ending. Most of the traditional Sailor Boy versions are affiliated with Died for Love by the tune and the borrowing of text. Following the excerpt with song text and background story as published in The Dublin University Magazine, August, 1862.
R. Matteson 2017]
The usual interruptions arising from the entrances of new visitors had occurred several times during these relaxations with the results already specified. The last visitor was a young giant named Tom Sweetman, a workman on the farm of young Roche, O’Brien’s neighbour, and an admirer of the songstress of the “Faithless Bride,” who, if she returned his affection, took special care to conceal the fact from the eyes of their acquaintance. Tom was as guileless a young fellow as the county could boast. O’Brien summoned him to sing, and he could produce nothing but the lamentation of a young girl for the absence of her lover.
THE SAILOR BOY.
Oh! the sailing trade is a weary life;
It robs fair maids of their heart's delight,
Which causes me for to sigh and mourn,
For fear my true love will ne'er return.
The grass grows green upon yonder lay,
The leaves are budding from ev'ry spray,
The nightingale in her cage will sing
To welcome Willy home to crown the spring.
I'll build myself a little boat
And o'er the ocean I mean to float;
From every French ship that do pass by,
I'll inquire for Willy, that bold sailor boy.
She had not sailed a league past three
Till a fleet of French ships she chanced to meet
"Come tell me, sailors, and tell me true,
If my love Willy sails on board with you."
"Indeed, fair maid, your love is not here,
But he is drowned by this we fear;
'Twas yon green island as we passed by,
There we lost Willy, that bold sailor boy."
She wrung her hands and she tore her hair
Just like a lady that was in despair;
Against the rock her little boat she run—
"How can I live, and my true love gone?"
Nine months after, this maid was dead,
And this note found on her bed's head;
How she was satisfied to end her life,
Because she was not a bold sailor's wife.
Dig my grave both large and deep,
Deck it over with lilies sweet,
And on my head-stone cut a turtle-dove,
To signify that I died for love.