Classic Poem

1

Went down to St. Joe's infirmary,
To see my woman there;
She was layin' on the table,
So white, so cold, so fair.

2

Went up to see the doctor,
" She's very low, " he said;
Went back to see my woman,
Good God! she's layin' there dead,
Spoken: She's dead!

3

Let her go, let her go, God bless her,
Wherever she may be!
There'll never be another like her,
There'll never be another for me.

4

I may be killed on the ocean,
I may be killed by a cannonball,
But let me tell you, buddy,
That a woman was the cause of it all.

5

Seventeen girls to the graveyard,
Seventeen girls to sing her a song,
Seventeen girls to the graveyard —
Only sixteen of 'em comin' back.

6

O sixteen coal-black horses,
To carry me when I'm gone.
O flowers on the coffin,
While the burial's carried on.