Oh, Boston's a fine town, with ships in the bay,
And I wish in my heart it was there I was today,
I wish in my heart I was far away from here,
A-sitting in my parlor and talking to my dear.

Then it's home, dearie, home, it's home I want to be,
And it's home, dearie, home, across the rolling sea,
Oh, the oak and the ash and the bonny ellum tree,
They're all a-growin' green in my own countree.

In Baltimore a-walking a lady I did meet,
With her baby on her arm as she walked down the street,
And I thought how I sailed, and the cradle standing ready,
And the pretty little babe that has never seen its daddy.

C HORUS

And if it's a girl, oh, she shall live with me,
And if it's a boy, he shall sail the rolling sea;
With his tarpaulin hat and his little jacket blue,
He shall walk the quarter-deck as his daddy used to do.
W. E. Henley, the English poet, liked the song so well that he changed it to read Falmouth instead of Boston and the bonny elm tree became the birken tree. In the third verse he tosses the as yet unborn child right onto the deck of the Royal Navy:

O, if it be a lass, she shall wear a golden ring;
And if it be a lad, he shall fight for his king:
With his dirk and his hat and his little jacket blue,
He shall walk the quarter-deck as his daddy used to do.

The American Navy has a roistering version of the chorus:

Home, boys, home, it's home we ought to be!
Home, boys, home, in God's countree!
The apple and the oak and the weeping willow tree,
Green grows the grass in North Amerikee!