Here, come closer, and hear a tale ne’er spoken,
How I fell to an evil spell,
What’s that I touch here? My heart? Broken!
‘Tis a tale I dread to tell:
A showy man came from the town,
He came a-wooing me,
He said as he swept past my gown,
He promised he’d marry me.
“Go buy your brother’s share of the brewery”,
A mighty price it cost;
“Plus clothes, carriages and jew’llery”,
All of this I lost.
But still I bought my lily-white dress,
As the wedding day did loom.
The guests arrived, we cleared the mess,
Came the day, but no bride-groom.
Twenty t’ nine, I stopped the clocks,
Satis fell to decay,
But still I wear my yellowing frocks,
To mourn my wedding day.
That showy gentl’men was a liar,
O take warning from me,
Don’t get consumed by passion’s fire,
But know, husband, fire comes for thee.