In Amsterdam there dwelt a maid, Mark well what I do say; In Amsterdam there dwelt a maid, And she was mistress of her trade. And I'll go no more a-roving With you, fair maid. A-roving, a-roving, Since roving's been my ru-i-n, I'll go no more a-roving With you, fair maid. Her cheeks was red, her eyes was brown, Mark well what I do say; Her cheeks was red, her eyes was brown, Her hair like glow-worms hanging down, And I'll go no more a-roving With you, fair maid. A-roving, a-roving, Since roving's been my ru-i-n, I'll go no more a-roving With you, fair maid. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 30 by JAMES JOYCE SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: DAVIS MATLOCK by EDGAR LEE MASTERS AFTER THE PAPAGO by JAMES GALVIN SYMPHONIC STUDIES (AFTER ROBERT SCHUMANN) by EMMA LAZARUS THE SLAVE TRADE: VIEW FROM THE MIDDLE PASSAGE by CLARENCE MAJOR |