As I walked ou t over Lond on br idge
O ne misty mo rning ear ly
I overhea rd a fa ir pretty ma id
W as lament ing fo r her Geo rdie.
Ah my Ge ordie will be han ged in a gol den cha in
' Tis not the cha in of ma ny
H e was bor n of kin g's royal bre ed
A nd los t to a virt uous lad y.
Go bri dle m e my mi lk white ste ed
G o bridle m e my po ny
I will rid e to Lon don cou rt
T o ple ad for the li fe of my Geo rdie.
Ah my Geo rdie never sto le nor co w nor cal f
H e never hur ted an y
S tole sixt een of the ki ng's royal dee r
A nd he so ld them i n Bohe nny.
T wo pretty bab ies ha ve I bo rn
The th ird lies in my bo dy
I 'd freely pa rt with them eve ry on e
If yo u'd spa re the li fe of Geo rdie.
The ju dge looked ov er his lef t shou lder
He sa id fair mai d I'm sor ry
He sa id fair mai d you mus t be go ne
F or I cann ot pard on Geor die.
Ah my Geo rdie will be han ged in a gold en cha in
'Ti s not the cha in of man y
S tole six teen of the kin g's royal de er
A nd he so ld them in Bohe nny.