As I went out one May morning To view the fields and leaves a-springing I saw two maidens standing by And one of them her hands was wringing And all of their conversation went My husband’s got no courage in him Oh dear-o, Oh dear-o Me husband’s got no courage in him! Oh dear-o Me husband’s admired wherever he goes And everyone looks well upon him With his handsome features and well-shaped leg But still he’s got no courage in him Me husband can dance and caper and sing And do anything that’s fitting for him But he cannot do the thing I want Because he’s got no courage in him All sorts of victuals I did provide All sorts of meats that’s fitting for him With oyster pie and rhubarb too But still he’s got no courage in him Every night when I goes to bed I lie and throw me leg right o’er him And my hand I clamp between his thighs But I can’t put any courage in him Seven long years I’ve made his bed And every night I’ve lain beside him But this morning I rose with me maidenhead For still he’s got no courage in him I wish me husband he was dead And in his grave I’d quickly lay him And then I’d find another one That’s got a little courage in him