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As I roved out one day in June,
'Twas down by Jim Long's stage;
I met my true love's father,
All in a frightful rage.
His eyes shot blood and slaughter,
As these words he spoke to me:
"Young man, you wants me daughter,
But you never can wed she.
"For a better man I'm searchin',
For she must wed the best;
I intend her for a merchant,
Who lives in Bonavist'."
Says I, "I'll win Eliza,
Tho' 'tis against your will;
And I'll build a fairy bower,
For her on Notchy Hill.
"Beyond the Plate Cove Mountains,
Where the pleasant waters flow;
I'll build a home for 'Lisa,
Where the great big birches grow.
And 'twill be a happy homestead,
No trouble and no strife;
For I mean to have Eliza,
To be my darlin' wife."
With that her father smiled on me,
Sayin', "Young man you need not rove;
You're the bravest youth from Red Cliff,
Right 'round to Western Cove.
And that man in Bonavista,
I didn't mean at all;
So you can have Eliza,
And wed her in the fall."
See more songs by Mark Walker.
Published in Gerald S. Doyle's Old-Time Songs And Poetry Of Newfoundland: Songs Of The People From The Days Of Our Forefathers (Third edition, p.22, 1955).
From the Dictionary Of Newfoundland English:
Stage - an elevated platform on the shore with working tables, sheds, etc, where fish are landed and processed for salting and drying, and fishing gear and supplies are stored; fishing stage.
