We've met, we've met, my own true love,

voiceCollected by: Mary C. Parler Sung by: William Eden Transcribed by: Anne Connaughton Monte Ne, Ark. April 14, 1960 Reel 395, Item 2 The House Carpenter We've met, we've met, my own true love, We've met, we've met, my honey; I'm just from the salt brink sea, And it's all for the love of thee, of thee, And it's all for the love of thee. It's I could a married a king's daughter dear, And she would of married me, But I refused that large crown of gold, And it's all for the love of thee, of thee, And it's all for the love of thee. If you could a married a king's daughter dear, I'm sure I'm not to blame, For I have married a house carpenter, And I think he's a nice young man, young man, And I think he's a nice young man. If you will forsake your house carpenter, And go along with me, I'll take you where the grass it grows green, On the banks of sweet Italy, Italy, On the banks of sweet Italy. If I forsake my house carpenter, And go along with thee, What have you there to maintain me upon, On the banks of sweet Italy, Italy, On the banks of sweet Italy? I have seven ships that is now on sea, And seven more on shore, And one hundred and ten, jolly, jolly men, All for to wait upon thee, upon thee, All for to wait upon thee. She went into her dressing room, She dressed both fine and gay, So out she came with a rose in her hand, Outshone the glittering day, day, Outshone the glittering day. She called her babies to her side, She kissed them one, two, three, Saying, Stay here, stay here, you three little babes, All for your papa's company, company, All for your papa's company.The House Carpenter Reel 395, Item 2 (cont'd) She hadn't been on sea weeks more than one, Weeks more than one, two, three, Till she fell to weeping one day, And she wept most bitterly, bitterly, And she wept most bitterly. Are you weeping for my gold my love, Or ere you weeping for my store, Or ere you weeping for that house carpenter, That you left when you come with me her, with me here, That you left when you come with me here. I'm not a weeping for your gold, Nor weeping for your store, But I'm weeping for those three little babes, That I left a setting in the floor, in the floor, I left a setting in the floor. I'm not weeping for your gold, Nor weeping for your store, But I'm weeping for those three little babes, That I never shall see no more, no more, That I never shall see no more. Cheer up, Cheer up, my own love, Cheer up, Cheer up, says he. I'll take you where the grass it grows green, On the banks of sweet Italy, Italy, On the banks of sweet Italy. She hadn't been on sea more than one, two, three, Weeks more than four, I am sure, Till she fell a weeping one day and she fell overboerd, And her weeping was heard no more, no more, And her weeping was heard no more. If I had not stole the house carpenter's wife, He might have been a treating her well, But now her body's in the bottom of the sea, And her soul is gone to — farewell, farewell, And her soul is gone to — farewell.Funding for digitization provided by the Arkansas Humanities Council and the Happy Hollow Foundation