Back in 4th grade, circa 1947 --
Recall a refrain after each paragraph that went as follows:
So — Blow ye winds hi-ho, a-roving I will go
I’ll stay no more on New England’s shore
So let the music play-ay-ay
I’m off in the morning rain — across the bounding main
I’m of to my love with a boxing glove, a thousand miles away
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