English poem
Iii
by John Stephen Farmer (1854–1916)
She blubb'd--"Now, Joe, vhy treat me ill? You know I love you as my life! When I forsook both Sam and Will, And promised to become your wife, You molled it up with Brick-dust Sall And went to live with her in quod! So I'll pike off with my mack'ral And you may bolt with your salt cod." Here's mack'rel, etc.