Oh Polly love, oh Polly, the road has now begun And we must go a marching at the beating of the drum Go dress yourself all in your best and come along with me I'll take you to the war my love in High Germany Oh Willy love, oh Willy, come list' what I do say My feet they are so tender, I cannot march away And besides my dearest Willy I am with child by thee Not fitted for the war my love in High Germany I'll buy for you a horse my love, and on it you shall ride And all my delight shall be in riding by your side We'll stop at every alehouse and drink when we are dry We'll be true to one another, get married by and by Oh cursed be them cruel war that ever they should rise And out of merry England press many a man likewise They pressed my true love from me likewise my brothers three And sent them to the war my love in High Germany