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Traditional
- So come all you bold sportsmen
That carry a gun
For I will have you go home
By the light of the sun
For young Jimmy was a-fowling,
Was a-fowling alone
When he shot his own true-love
In the room of a swan.
- So then first he went to her,
And found it was she
He was shaking and tremb-e-ling,
His eyes scarce could see
So now you are dead, love,
And your sorrows are o'er Fare thee well, my dear Polly,
I shall see you no more.
Then home went young Jimmer
- With his dog and his gun
Saying: Uncle, dear Uncle,
Have you heard what I've done?
Cur-sed be this old gunsmith
That made me this gun
For I've shot my own true-love
In the form of a swan.
Then out came bold Uncle
- With his locks hanging gray
Saying, Jimmer, dear Jimmer,
Don't you run away
Don't you leave your own count-e-rie
Til the trail comes on
For you ne'er shall be hanged
For the crime you has done.
Now the trial came on and
- Pretty Polly appeared
Saying, Uncle, dear Uncle,
Let Jimmy go clear
For my apron was wrapped round me
When he took me for a swan
And his poor heart lay bleeding
For Polly his own.
From the collection Songs From Hazzards Huzzah