The Brisk Young Sailor by Percy Grainger Lyrics

A fair maid walking all in her garden
A brisk young sailor she chanced to spy
He stepped up to her thinking to woo her, cried thus:
Fair maid, can you fancy I?

You seem to be some man of honour
Some man of honour you seem to be
I am a poor and lowly maiden
Not fitting, sir, your servant for to be