Oh Polly love, oh Polly, the rout has now begun
We must go a-marching to the beating of the [bad word] Dress yourself all in your best [bad word] along with me
I'll take you to the war, my love, in High Germany

Oh Willie love, oh [bad word] list what I do say
My feet they are so tender I cannot march away
And besides my dearest Willie I am with child by thee
Not [bad word] for the war, my love, in High Germany

I'll buy for you a horse, my love, and on it you shall ride
And all my delight shall be in riding by your side
We'll stop at every ale-house and drink when we are dry
We'll be [bad word] to one another, get married by and by

Cursed be them [bad word] wars that ever they should rise
And out of merry England press many a man likewise
They pressed my [bad word] love from me likewise my brothers three
And sent them to the war, my love, 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 a-smiling on my knee
I'll think of lovely Willie in High Germany