Let the wind blow high or low (Roud 308)

 

One night when was walking down by a riverside

Was gazing all around me when an Irish girl I spied

Red and rosy were her cheeks and coal black was her hair

And costly were the lovely robes this Irish girl did wear

 

I call for liquor merrily and pay before I go

And I roll my lass all on the grass let the wind blow high or low

let the wind blow high or low

 

Her shoes were black her stockings white all sprinkled with dew

She wrung her hands and tore her hair and cried what shall I do?

I’m going home, I’m going home, I’m going home said she

Oh would you a roving to slight your own polly

 

The last time that I saw my love she seemed to be in pain

With heart felt grief and chilling chilling woe her heart seemed broke in twain

There’s many a girl more true than she so why should I complain

Love it is a chilling thing did you ever feel the pain

 

I wish I was a butterfly I’d fly to my true loves breast

I wish I were the linnet I would sing my love to rest

I wish I were the nightingale I’d sing to the morning clear

I’ll sit and sing for you polly the girl I love so dear

 

I wish my love were a red rose budd that in the garden grew

And I to be the gardener to her I would prove true

There’s not a month in all the year my love I would renew

The lilies I would garnish with sweet William, Thyme and Rue

 

I wish I were in Wicklewood lying on the grass

With a bottle of whisky in my hand and upon my knee a lass

I’d call for liquor merrily and pay before I go

And I’d roll my lass all on the grass let the wind blow high or low

I call for liquor merrily and pay before I go

And I roll my lass all on the grass let the wind blow high or low

let the wind blow high or low

let the wind blow high or low

let the wind blow high or low