There was a Maid in our Town

There was a maiden in our town, With eyes as black as sloes; Her hair it was a chesnut brown, Her cheeks like any rose: But then, I wist, She'd not be kiss'd; To struggle was her way; And then she'd cry, "Begone, stand by, 'Od rabbit it I what do ye say?"

There was a shepherd in the place, And Roger was his name, Resolv'd to win her, in any case; So he a wooing came: He snatch'd a kiss— She frown'd at this, And push'd him soon away; With "Pray get out, You saucy lout, 'Od rabbit it! what do ye say?

But Roger did not care a pin, So laugh'd at what she said; And boldly smack'd her lips again, For he was not afraid: He hugg'd her tight, With all his might, She could not get away; Though still she try'd, And frown'd, and cry'd, "'Od rabbit it! what do ye say?"

The stoutest foe must sometimes yield, And so it happen'd now; For Roger fairly won the field, You surely may guess how. They're wed, I wist, And now she's kiss'd By Roger night and day; But words arise; Then Roger cries, "'Od rabbit it! what do ye say?"