As I walked under London Bridge
One misty morning early,
I overheard a fair, pretty maid,
Lamenting for her Geordie.
''My Geordie will be hanged with a golden chain,
'Tis not the chain of many.
He stole sixteen of the King's royal deer
And he sold them in Boeny.''
''Go saddle me my milk white steed
Go saddle me my pony
That I may ride to London's courts
To plead for the life of Geordie.''
''My Geordie never hurt a man nor calf
He never hurted any
He stole sixteen of the King's royal deer
And he sold them in Boeny.''
''Two pretty babies have I borne,
The third lies in my body,
And I would part with them every one,
If you pardon my dear Geordie.''
But the judge looked over his left shoulder,
He said, ''Fair maid, I'm sorry,
I cannot pardon the one you love,
He has been hanged already.''
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