High Germany
(Traditional)



Oh Polly love, oh Polly the rout has now begun 
And we must go a marching at the beating of the drum 
Go dress yourself all in your best and come along with me 
I'll take you to the war me love in High Germany 

Oh Willy love, oh Willy come list to what I say 
My feet they are so tender, I can not march away 
And besides my dearest Willy I am with child by thee 
Not fitted for the war me love in High Germany 

I'll buy for you a horse me love and on it you shall ride 
And all my life I'll be there riding by your side 
We'll stop at every ale-house and drink when we are dry 
We'll be true to one another, get married bye and bye 

Oh cursed be the cruel wars that ever they should rise 
And out of merry England press many a man likewise 
They pressed my true love from me, likewise my brothers three 
And sent them to the wars me lad in High Germany 

My friends I do not value nor my foes I do not fear 
Now my love has left me I wander far and near 
And when my baby it is born and smiling on my knee 
I'll think of lovely Willy in High Germany 

Oh Polly love, oh Polly the rout has now begun 
And we must go a marching at the beating of the drum 
Go dress yourself all in your best and come along with me 
I'll take you to the war me love in High Germany