Classic Poem

One morning in the month of June
Down by the riverside,
There she beheld a bold fisherman,
Come rowing on the tide.

"Morning to you, bold fisherman,
How come you fishing here?'
"I've come a-fishing for your sweet sake
All on the river clear.'

He lashed his boat up by the stem,
And to this lady went.
He took her by the milkwhite hand
For she was his intent.

He then took off his morning robe
And laid it on the ground,
So she beheld three chains of gold,
All on his neck around.

Straightway she fell upon her knees
And loud for mercy called.
"I thought you were a bold fisherman,
I see you are some lord.'

"Stand up, stand up, unto my father's hall.
There I'll make you my bride,
And you shall have a Royal Fisherman
To row you on the tide.'