1

Well met, well met, my own true love!
Long time am I seeking of thee.
I am lately come from the salt, salt wave,
And all for the sake, sweet love, of thee.

2

I might have had a king's daughter,
She fain would have married me,
But I did not hold for her crown of gold,
And all for the sake, sweet love, of thee.

3

I have seven ships that sail on the sea,
It was one brought me to the land;
I have mariners many to wait on thee
To be all, sweet love, at thy command.

4

A pair of slippers, love, thou shalt have,
They are made of the beaten gold,
They are lined within with a coney's skin,
To keep thy feet, sweet love, from cold.

5

A gilded boat thou too shalt have,
And the oars be gilded also,
And the mariners they shall pipe and sing
As through the salt waves, sweet love, we go.

6

A way of gold lies over the sea
Where the sun doth set in the west.
And along that way thou shalt sail with me,
To the land of lands, sweet love, that's best.