The Merry Wedding

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A jolly young grocer of London town
Fell deeply in love with a maid;
But often he courted her to lie down
But she told him that she was afraid.

He tried to enthuse her
But still she refused

To consent to his wicked will;
She said, "You must tarry,
Until we do marry,
And then you shall have your fill."

And so it did seem that he could not obtain
The blessings that he pursued,
For though he had tried again and again
She vowed that she would not be lewd.

At last he submitted
And thus he permitted

The parson to enter the door;
He knew not his bride
Had been tested and tried
By one that she loved before.

And after the marriage had been declared
The drums and the fiddles arrived;
And oh what a thumping and bumping was there
To please his lovely bride.

There was fiddle, come fiddle,
With a hey, diddle, diddle,
And while the music played
There was kissing and loving
And heaving and shoving
To capture the heart of the maid.

But ere three months had passed away
A thumping baby was born.
"Confound you!" he was heard to say,
With bitterness and scorn.

"You're a strumpet," cries he;
"You're a cockold," cries she;

And finding himself betrayed,
There was hitting and fighting
And spitting and biting.
His jewel had proved a jade.

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