If I might leave this harbour, if I might cross the sea,
'Tis I that know full well where a little while I'd be -
Sittin' in the window-nook a-lookin' to the quay,
At the Ring o' Bells,
The pleasant Ring o' Bells,
All among the old faces, an' the tar an' seaweed smells.

In the hot reekin' city, it's there my heart longs
To be far from strange harbours an' drunken dusky throngs, -
To be hearin' old voices a-singin' old songs
At the Ring o' Bells,
The pleasant Ring o' Bells,
Ah it's there I once was merry, and it's there my heart dwells.

Just the catch of a tune in a gaudy, glaring bar,
And back leagues on leagues my heart goes leapin' far,
Where the gay garden posies an' the English lasses are,
At the Ring o' Bells,
The pleasant Ring o' Bells,
All among the old faces, an' the tar an' seaweed smells.