And the young maids that are mild and meek.
The damsels of Sunderland would, if they could,
Welcome brave sailors, when they come from sea,
Build a fine tower of silver and gold:
Every man to his mind, but Sunderland for me.
The young men of Sunderland are pretty blades,
And when they come in with these handsome maids,
They kiss and embrace, and compliment free:
Every man to his mind, but Sunderland for me.
In Silver-street there lives one Isabel Rod,