Carry Me Back to Her Arms

A-roving we went, my true love and I

Amongst the corn and the maize,

When death leaned in with his sickle and clock

And swept my true love away.

I have followed the nightjar home to her bed

I have followed the sound of her heart,

Over field and valley I've counted them fly

And the seventh is always apart.

So a-roving I'll go through my fields once more

With my ear to the maize and the corn,

And wait for the day that death comes for me

To carry me back to her arms.

To her arms, boys, to her arms boys,

To carry me back to her arms.

And a-roving I'll go until death comes for me

To carry me back to her arms.