When my Hero in court appears
And stands arraign'd for his life;
Then think of poor Polly's tears;
For ah! Poor Polly's his wife
Like the sailor he holds up his hand
Distrest on the dashing wave
To die a dry death at land
Is a bad a wat'ry grave:
And alas, poor Polly!
Alack and a-well a day!
Before I was in love
Oh, ev'ry month was May