O where are you roaming this long weary day?
I am waiting by the water down here at the bay.
Where the wind and the waves seem to whisper of joy
While I wait and I long for my own pretty boy.
You told me you loved me down here by the bay,
And then with the flood-tide your boat sailed away,
Now darkness has fallen, the boats are all home;
But my own pretty boy is afar on the foam.
You promised me riches and dresses so fine,
And a little white cottage and all to be mine,
Now the waves seem to mock all my joy,
As I wait here and long for my own pretty boy.
Singing Together, Spring 1968, BBC Publications
(Search Roud index at VWML) Take Six