Oh dear, I am going to be married
Oh dear, I am going to be married.
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COME cheer up you sweet pretty girls,
And along with your lovers be mlngling,
Oh put on your bustles and curls,
You gay blooming lasses of England ;
Come be in the fashion I pray,
It is time to the church you were carried,
Next Monday is my wedding day,
When by jingo I'm going to be married.
Come ladies get ready with me.
My husband's a nice little chap,
Perhaps you may think he's a Russian,
But I know far better than that,
He's a Prince, and a jolly young Prussian ;
He's adored by Old England's Queen,
Who says we long single have tarried,
Last November I was seventeen,
Don't you think it is time I got married.
With my lover, my sweet Prussian Fred,
I will dance like a Briton, and sing sir,
And the moment that we are got wed,
By the railway we'll to Windsor ;
The honeymoon there we will pass,
Before we to Berlin are carried,
Cheer up every sweet pretty lass,
Oh ! for heaven's sake go and get married,
If my husband don't mo always please,
Three weeks after marriage I'll warm him,
I shall make him go hunting the fleas,
And making the toast in the morning ;
Then down to the parlour, oh dear !
In Fred's arms I intend to be cairied,
He shall place me snug in the arm-chair,
Oh dear, how I long to be married.
Now all yon pretty girls past sixteen,
Cheer up, and in harmony mingle,
I am sure you long silly have been,
'Tis a shame for you now to live single ;
Get a shoemaker, tailor, or snip,
And by him to the parson be carried,
Or a man that can handle his whip,
Gee wo ! I am going to be married.
I shall soon have a nice little boy,
Who will shine on the nose like a guinea,
My Freddy shall mix up the pap,
And play with the sweet piccaninny ;
All the uapkins and fol de rol lols,
By his father up stairs shall be carried,
Here is jolly good luck to the day,
The day that I'm going to get married.
In England, in country and town,
They are making terrible fuss then,
I would part with a sceptre and crown,
And I'd give all the world for a husband ;
'Tis a shame to be lying alone,
'Tis nearly as bad as being buried,
Cheer up for dear Darby and Joan,
Next week I am going to get married,
You sweet pretty girls I'm afraid
Your charms and your beauties yon cover,
Look out, or you will all die maids,
Care not for your fathers and mothers ;
Look out for a husband, like me,
Say too long you have all single tarried,
Flare up girls and have a good spree,
Let us all go like bricks and get married.
Rial & Co., Printers, Monmouth-court, 7 Dials
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