Martin Carthy And Dave Swarbrick - The Fowler lyrics

Come all you young fellows that follow the gun, I'll have you not go out by the light of the sun. For young Jimmy was a fowler and a-fowling all alone When he shot his own true love in the room of a swan. Then it's home went young Jimmy with his dog and his gun, Saying, "Uncle dear uncle, do you see what I've done, Oh, cursed be that old gunsmith who made me my gun For I've been and shot me true love in the room of a swan." Then out came his uncle with his locks hanging grey, Saying, "Jimmy, dear Jimmy, don't you run away. And don't you leave your own country till your trial it come on, For you never will be hanged for the shooting of a swan." All the girls in this country, they're all glad we know, For to see pretty Polly and lying so low. Oh, you could pile them into a mountain, you could line them all in a row, And her beauty would shine among them like a fountain of snow. Now the trial it came on and pretty Polly did appear, Saying, "Uncle, dear uncle, let Jimmy go clear, For with me apron thrown over me he took me for a swan, And his own love lay bleeding for it was Polly his own."