Classic Poem

As I was a-walking on yon far distant shore,
I went into an alehouse for to spend an hour,
And as I sat smoking and taking my glass,
By chance there came by a young Indian lass.

This lovely sweet Indian and the place where she stood,
I viewed her sweet features and found they were good,
She was both tall and handsome, her age was sixteen,
She was born and brought up in the place New Orleans.

She sat down beside me and squeezed my hand,
‘Kind sir, you're a stranger, not one of this land;
I have got fine lodgings if you with me will stay,
My portion you shall have without more delay.’

With a glass of good liquor she welcomed me in:
‘Kind sir, you are welcome to have anything.’
And as I embraced her, this was her tune:
‘Oh you're a poor sailor and far from home.’

There we tossed and we tumbled in each other's arms,
All night I stayed admiring her beautiful charms,
With sweetest enjoyments this time passed away,
And I did not leave her till nine the next day.

The day was appointed I was going away,
And on the wide ocean to leave her astray.
She said, ‘When you are in your native land,
Remember the Indian who squeezed your hand.’

The day was appointed and I was going to sail,
This Indian lass on the beach did bewail.
I took out my handkerchief and wiped her eyes,
‘Oh do not leave me, dear sailor,’ she cried.

We weighed our anchor and away then we flew,
And a sweet pleasant breeze parted me from her view.
So now I am over and taking my glass,
Here's a health, a good health, to that Indian lass.