The Book of Humorous Verse
Chapter 33 : I'm sure wi' you I've been as free As ony modest la.s.s should be; But y

I'm sure wi' you I've been as free As ony modest la.s.s should be; But yet it doesna do to see Sic freedom used before folk.

Behave yoursel' before folk, Behave yoursel' before folk; I'll ne'er submit again to it-- So mind you that--before folk.

Ye tell me that my face is fair; It may be sae--I dinna care-- But ne'er again gar't blush sae sair As ye ha'e done before folk.

Behave yoursel' before folk, Behave yoursel' before folk; Nor heat my cheeks wi' your mad freaks, But aye de douce before folk.

Ye tell me that my lips are sweet, Sic tales, I doubt, are a' deceit; At ony rate, it's hardly meet To pree their sweets before folk.

Behave yoursel' before folk, Behave yoursel' before folk; Gin that's the case, there's time, and place, But surely no before folk.

But, gin you really do insist That I should suffer to be kiss'd, Gae, get a license frae the priest, And mak' me yours before folk.

Behave yoursel' before folk, Behave yoursel' before folk; And when we're ane, baith flesh and bane, Ye may tak' ten--before folk.

_Alexander Rodger._

THE CHRONICLE: A BALLAD

Margarita first possess'd, If I remember well, my breast, Margarita, first of all; But when a while the wanton maid With my restless heart had play'd, Martha took the flying ball.

Martha soon did it resign To the beauteous Catharine.

Beauteous Catharine gave place (Though loth and angry she to part With the possession of my heart) To Eliza's conquering face.

Eliza till this hour might reign, Had she not evil counsel ta'en: Fundamental laws she broke, And still new favourites she chose, Till up in arms my pa.s.sions rose, And cast away her yoke.

Mary then and gentle Anne, Both to reign at once began, Alternately they swayed: And sometimes Mary was the fair, And sometimes Anne the crown did wear, And sometimes both I obey'd.

Another Mary then arose, And did rigorous laws impose; A mighty tyrant she!

Long, alas, should I have been Under that iron-scepter'd queen, Had not Rebecca set me free.

When fair Rebecca set me free, 'Twas then a golden time with me, But soon those pleasures fled; For the gracious princess died In her youth and beauty's pride, And Judith reigned in her stead.

One month, three days, and half an hour, Judith held the sovereign power, Wondrous beautiful her face; But so weak and small her wit, That she to govern was unfit, And so Susanna took her place.

But when Isabella came, Arm'd with a resistless flame, And th' artillery of her eye; Whilst she proudly march'd about Greater conquests to find out: She beat out Susan by the bye.

But in her place I then obey'd Black-ey'd Bess, her viceroy maid, To whom ensued a vacancy: Thousand worse pa.s.sions then possess'd The interregnum of my breast; Bless me from such an anarchy.

Gentle Henrietta then, And a third Mary next began; Then Joan, and Jane, and Andria: And then a pretty Thomasine, And then another Catharine, And then a long et caetera.

But should I now to you relate The strength and riches of their state, The powder, patches, and the pins, The ribbons, jewels, and the rings, The lace, the paint, and warlike things, That make up all their magazines:

If I should tell the politic arts To take and keep men's hearts; The letters, emba.s.sies, and spies, The frowns, and smiles, and flatteries, The quarrels, tears, and perjuries, Numberless, nameless, mysteries!

And all the little lime-twigs laid By Machiavel, the waiting maid; I more voluminous should grow (Chiefly if I, like them, should tell All change of weather that befel) Than Holinshed or Stow.

But I will briefer with them be, Since few of them were long with me: An higher and a n.o.bler strain My present empress does claim, Eleonora, first o' th' name, Whom G.o.d grant long to reign.

_Abraham Cowley._

BUXOM JOAN

A soldier and a sailor, A tinker and a tailor, Had once a doubtful strife, sir, To make a maid a wife, sir, Whose name was Buxom Joan.

For now the time was ended, When she no more intended To lick her lips at men, sir, And gnaw the sheets in vain, sir, And lie o' nights alone.

The soldier swore like thunder, He loved her more than plunder; And showed her many a scar, sir, That he had brought from far, sir, With fighting for her sake.

The tailor thought to please her, With offering her his measure.

The tinker too with mettle, Said he could mend her kettle, And stop up every leak.

But while these three were prating, The sailor slily waiting, Thought if it came about, sir, That they should all fall out, sir, He then might play his part.

And just e'en as he meant, sir, To loggerheads they went, sir, And then he let fly at her A shot 'twixt wind and water, That won this fair maid's heart.

_William Congreve._

OH, MY GERALDINE

Oh, my Geraldine, No flow'r was ever seen so toodle um.

You are my lum ti toodle lay, Pretty, pretty queen, Is rum ti Geraldine and something teen, More sweet than tiddle lum in May.

Like the star so bright That somethings all the night, My Geraldine!

You're fair as the rum ti lum ti sheen, Hark! there is what--ho!

From something--um, you know, Dear, what I mean.

Oh I rum! tum!! tum!!! my Geraldine.

_F. C. Burnand._

THE PARTERRE

I don't know any greatest treat As sit him in a gay parterre, And sniff one up the perfume sweet Of every roses b.u.t.toning there.

It only want my charming miss Who make to blush the self red rose; Oh! I have envy of to kiss The end's tip of her splendid nose.

Oh! I have envy of to be What gra.s.s 'neath her pantoffle push, And too much happy seemeth me The margaret which her vestige crush.

But I will meet her nose at nose, And take occasion for her hairs, And indicate her all my woes, That she in fine agree my prayers.