BANKS OF ISLAND POND

The offal rock is full of fish 
As many fish I knows 
The only brook down through the droke 
And that one valley flows 
It's not the rock nor the fish 
If I have any fun to find 
Nor is it a brook down through the droke 
That weighs upon my mind 
But the girl I like to listen to 
When sing to me a song 
Aboard a habitation 
That lies near Island Pond

I asked her if she give up work 
Oh sure she said oh no 
I'll go into the garden 
And it's there I till and sew 
Get ready for the winter 
Where storms still blow so strong 
And I live and be contented 
At the banks of Island Pond

And when September do come round 
Berry pickin I will go 
I'll go into the valleys 
Where the wind do sweeply blow 
I listen to those little birds 
As they sing that sweet sweet song 
And I live and be contented
At the banks of Island Pond

I seem not quite light hearted 
And home that when my way 
And hopes to meet the damsel 
On some other day 
Where I could sit beside her 
For me she sing her song 
And I live and die contented 
At the banks of Island Pond 
I live and die contented 
At the banks of Island Pond