Shirley Collins - The Rich Irish Lady lyrics

There was a rich lady from London she came She was called Pretty Sally, Pretty Sally by name Her wealth it was more than a king could possess Her beauty was more than her wealth at its best There was a young doctor was living hard by Who on this fair maiden in love cast his eye He courted her nightly a year and a day But still she refused him and ever say nay “O Sally, dear Sally, Pretty Sally,“ says he “Can you tell me the reason our love can't agree? Your cruel unkindness my ruin will prove Unless all your hatred will turn into love.” “I've no hatred to you nor to other man But truly to marry you I never can Give over your courting, I pray you be still For you I'll ne'er marry of my own free will.” 'Twas soon after this, scarce a year had gone by Pretty Sally got sick and she feared she would die She tangled was in love and she knew not for why She sent for the doctor she once had denied “So am I the doctor whose sk** you would try? Or am I the young man you once did deny?” “Yes you are the doctor, can k** or can cure Unless you can help me I'm dying I'm sure.” “But Sally, Pretty Sally, O Sally,” said he “Don't you remember you once slighted me?” “For what's past and done, sir, I hope you'll forgive And grant me some longer in the wide world to live.” “That I'll ne'er do, Sally, while I do draw breath But I'll dance on your grave when you're laid in the earth.” “Ten thousand times over my folly I see I freely forgive you although you won't me.” Then off from her fingers gold rings she drew three Saying, “Take them and wear them when your dancing on me.”