|
|
 |
The Lass of Mohea

Lyrics from Songs of American
Sailormen, by Joanna Colcord |
 |
As I walked out one
morning in May,
For my recreation my thoughts far away,
Whilst I lay me down at full length on the
grass,
Oh, who should come near but a fair Indian
lass.
She sat down by my side and gently pressed
my hand
Saying "You are a stranger in this our
distant land.
Then come to the parson's and there marry
me,
And I'll teach you the language of the
little Mohea."
Then sun was fast rising from off the salt
sea
When I wandered off with this lass of Mohea.
Together we wandered, together we roved,
Till we came to her hut in the coconut
grove.
This pretty Kanaka was modest and kind,
She acted her part with a virtuous mind,
And being a stranger far away from my home,
I'll never forget her wherever I roam.
'Twas early one morning, one morning in May,
That to this fair maiden these words I did
say:
"I'm going to leave you, so farewell, my
dear,
My ship's sails are loosed and home I must
steer."
Oh, the last time I saw her 'twas down on
the strand,
And as our boat passed by her, she waved her
hand,
Saying "When you get back to the ones that
you love
Pray think of the lass in the coconut
grove."
Since then I'm safe landed on my own native
shore,
And my friends and relations flock round me
once more
And though many I look at, not one can I see
That I can compare with the lass of Mohea. |
 |
Click on the Piece of Eight to return to the Main Page
 |
|
 |
|
|
|