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Maine Lumberjacks 67
8 It is not right to press a boy
Or try to keep him down; It ofttimes makes him leave his home When he is far too young.
9 There's adieu unto my nearer friend,
That is my mother dear; She had reared a son of hers, All in her tender care.
10 And little did my mama think,
When she sung sweet lullaby, What country I might travel in Or the death that I might die.
11 Here's adieu unto those Island girls,
Those Island girls so true,
12 No more I '11 walk those flowery banks
To see those ships pass by And steamers floating in the breeze, With canvas half-mast high.
13 In the city of Boiestown
Where my mouldering bones do lie ..... . • . . .