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She's not what fancy painted her, I'm sadly taken in; If some one else had won her, I should not have cared a pin. I thought that she was mild and good As maiden e'er could be; I wonder how she ever could Have so much humbugged me.
They cluster round and shake my hand, They tell me I am blest; My case they do not understand, I think that I know best. They say she's fairest of the fair, They drive me mad and madder; What do they mean by it? I declare I only wish they had her.
'Tis true that she has lovely locks, That on her shoulders fall What would they say to see the box In which she keeps them all. Her taper fingers it is true, Are difficult to match; What would they say, if they but knew How terribly they scratch? |
Judson Joseph Hutchinson. "The Humbug'd Husband." Music:
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