I lived in service in Rosemary Lane,
I kept the good will of my master and dame.
Till a sailor came there one night for to lay,
And that was the beginning of my misery.

He called for a candle to light him to bed,
And likewise a silk handkerchief for to tie up his head.
To tie up his head as he used for to do,
Says he, “Pretty Polly, Won't [bad word] to bed too?”

This girl, feeling young and foolish, she thought it no harm
To jump into bed for to keep herself warm.
But what what done next I'll never declare,
But I wish that short night had been seven long year.

It was early next morning the sailor arose
And into her lap he threw handfuls of gold,
Saying, “This I will give, and more I will do
If you'll be my Polly wherever I go.”

“And when your baby is born, you put it to nurse,
And sit like a lady with gold in your purse.
With gold in your purse and milk in your breast,
Saying, that's what you've got by your sailor in the west.”

“And if it's a boy, he shall fight for the king,
And if it's a girl, she shall wear the gold ring.
She shall wear the gold ring and her top knot shall blow,
Saying, that's what you've got by your sailor [bad word] blue.”