Oh, when I was a bachelor early and young
I followed the weaving trade.
All the harm that ever I done
Was in courtin' a fair young maid.
I courted her in the summertime,
And all through the winter too.
And the only thing I ever did wrong
Was keep her from the foggy dew.
Well, I got that tired of living alone,
I says to her one day,
"I've a nice little cod in my old shack,
Where you could safely lay.
You'll be all right in the summertime,
And all through the winter, too,
You'll be snug and warm and you'll take no harm,
All out of the foggy dew."
"Well, I don't think much to your old shack,
As I will lonely be,
With only your old Cyprus cat
For to keep me company.
With crickets chirping in the hearth(?)
But whatever can they do,
When the night turns raw and the fire won't draw,
To keep me from the foggy dew?"
One night she come to my bedside,
When I lay fast asleep.
She laid her head down on my breast
And she started in to weep.
She wept, she sighed, she well near died,
She cries, "What shall I do?
For this night I'm resolved to stay with you
Without of the foggy dew."
"Oh lie down there, you silly young girl,
And wipe away those tears."
Then I hauled her shift up over her head,
And I wrapped it round her ears.
We were all right in the summertime
And all through the winter, too.
But I held her tight that livelong night
To keep her from the foggy dew.
"Oh lie down there, you silly young girl,
And don't you be afraid.
If you want to stay with me,
You have to learn your trade."
She learned all through the summertime,
And all through the winter, too.
And truth to tell, she learned that well,
She saved us from the foggy dew.
One night I laid there, good as gold,
When she starts unto me,
Says, "I've got a pain in below my back,
Where no pain ought to be.
I was all right in the summertime,
And all through the winter, too.
But I take some ill or a kind of a chill,
On account of the foggy dew."
That night she started to moan and cry.
Says I, "What's up with you?"
Says she, "I never should have been this way,
If it haven't been for you."
I put my boots and my trousers on,
And I ran for my neighbour, too.
Do what we could, we couldn't do no good,
And she died in the foggy dew.
I'm a bachelor now, and I live with my son,
And we work at the weaving trade.
Each time I look in his eyes, I see
The eyes of that fair young maid.
Reminding me of the summertime,
And of the winter, too.
And of the many times I rolled in her arms
All over the foggy dew.