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The Foggy Dew

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Folkesang fra Suffolk.

 

1. When I was a bach'lor, I lived all alone,

I worked at the weaver's trade.

And the only, only thing that I did that was wrong,

Was to woo a fair young maid.

I wooed her in the wintertime

and in the summer too;

And the only, only thing that I did that was wrong,

Was to keep her from the foggy, foggy dew.

 

2. One night she knelt close by my side,

When I was fast asleep.

She threw her arms around my neck

And then began to weep.

She wept, she cried, she tore her hair,

Ah, me, what could I do?

So all night through I held her in my arms.

Just to keep her from the foggy, foggy dew.

 

3. Again I'm a bach'lor, I live with my son,

We work at the weaver's trade;

And every single time that I look into his eyes,

He reminds me of the fair young maid.

He reminds me of the wintertime

And of the summer, too,

And the many, many times that I held her in my arms.

Just to keep her from the foggy, foggy dew.

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