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The Sailor from Dover

[ Roud 180 ; Child 295 ; Laws P9 ; Ballad Index C295 ; trad.]

Cecil Sharp collected The Sailor from Dover in 1909 from Mrs Lucy Durston, Bridgwater, Somerset. and Ralph Vaughan Williams and A.L. Lloyd published it in The Penguin Book of English Folk Songs. Lloyd recorded it in 1956 for his and Ewan MacColl's project The English and Scottish Popular Ballads, Volume III and in 1960 for his album A Selection from the Penguin Book of English Folk Songs. Like all tracks from the latter LP it was reissued in 2003 on the CD England & Her Traditional Songs. Lloyd commented in the album's sleeve notes:

An old ballad (The Brown Girl, ed.), seldom met with now, tells of a dark girl whose sweetheart sends words that he cannot fancy her “because she is brown”. Later he falls dangerously ill, and begs her to come to him. At the bedside, like Barbara Allen, she mocks him. Mysteriously, she strokes his breast with a white wand to give him peace, but says she can never forgive him, and that she'll gleefully dance on his grave. Writers of broadside ballads seemed to feel this subtle story might not appeal to their customers, so they changed the situation to one in which a snobbish girl slights a sailor, and it is the honest seaman who finally looks forward to dancing on her grave. Evidently the pot-poets understood their market, for the sailor version has survived far better than the brown girl set. Sharp obtained the song from Mrs. Durston of Bridgwater, Somerset.

Shirley Collins recorded Sailor from Dover during the sessions for her and her sister Dolly's album Love, Death & the Lady. But as three other ones, this track was left out and only found its way onto the 1994 and 2003 CD reissues. Shirley Collins commented in the sleeve notes:

Completed from a fragment sung to me by Mrs. Ollie Gilbert in Timbo, Arkansas. I met Ollie and her husband Oscar in 1959 when I joined Alan Lomax on a field recording trip in the Southern United States. They had lived a typical old-style mountaineer life. Oscar was reputed to be “the fightingest man in Arkansas”, having killed seven men, mostly “over women and moonshine”. After dinner Oscar told me to “go join the womenfolk” while the men drank whiskey. I didn't protest—and Ollie and I had a splendid evening swapping songs.

Lyrics

A.L. Lloyd sings The Sailor from Dover

There was a sailor from Dover, from Dover he came
He courted a fair young damsel, and Sally was her name;
And she being so lofty and her portion being so high,
All on a poor sailor love she scarce would cast an eye.

“O Sally, dearest Sally, o Sally,” then said he,
“I fear that your false heart my ruin it will be;
Without your present hatred is turned into love,
You'll make me broken-hearted and my ruin it will prove.”

“I cannot love a sailor, nor any such a man,
So keep your heart in comfort and forget me if you can.
I pray you keep your distance and mind your own discourse,
For I never intend to marry you unless that I am forced.”

But when a year was over and twelve months they was past,
This lovely young damsel she grew sick in love at last.
Entangled she was all in her love, she did not know for why,
So she sent for the young man on whom she had an eye.

“Oh, am I now now the doctor, that you have sent for me?
Pray do you well remember how once you slighted me?
How once you slighted me, my love, and treated me with scorn,
So now I will reward you for all that you have done.”

“For what is past and gone,” she said, “I pray you to forgive,
And grant me just a little longer time for to live.”
“Oh no, my dearest Sally, as long as I have breath,
Well I'll dance all on your grave, love, as you lie under the earth.”

Shirley Collins sings Sailor from Dover

There was a sailor from Dover, from Dover there came
He courted a lovely lady, and Sally was her name;
But she being so lofty and her fortune being so high,
All on a poor sailor love she'd scarcely cast an eye.

“O Sally, dearest Sally, o Sally,” then said he,
“I fear that your false heart my ruin it will be;
Unless your present hatred is turned into love,
You'll leave me broken-hearted and my ruin it will prove.”

But when a year was over and a twelve months they were past,
A lovely young Sally, she grew so sick at last.
Entangled she was all in her love and she couldn't tell for why,
She sent for the young man whom on she had an eye.

“O Sally, dearest Sally, o Sally,” then said he,
Pray don't you remember, love, how once you slighted me?
How once you slighted me, my love, and you treated me with scorn,
So now I will reward you for all that you have done.”

“For what is past and gone,” she said, “I pray you to forgive,
And grant me just a little longer on this old Earth to live.”
“Oh no, my dearest Sally, as long as I've had breath,
I'll dance all on your grave, my love, as you lay under the earth.”