In
Chester town there lived
a brisk young widow
For beauty and fine clothes
none could excel her
She was proper stout and tall,
her fin gers long and small
She's a comely dame with
all, she's a brisk young widow
So a lover soon there came,
a brisk young farmer
With his hat turned up all rounder,
thinking to gain her.
My dear, for love of you, this wide
world I go through.
If you would but prove true,
you shall wed a farmer.
Says she, I'm not for you,
nor no such fellow.
I'm for some lively lad
with lads and riches.
Tis not your hogs and yowls can maintain
Fur bal loons, my silks and satin holes,
They are all me glory
Madam, don't be coy
for all your glory
For fear of another day an d another story
If the world on you should frown
Your top knot must come down
To a
Lindsay
Woolsey gum, where is then your glory?
And at length there come that way,
a sooty collier with his hat bent down all round
He sounded gainer,
where at that farmer swore,
That widow's mace I'm sure I'll
never court no more
With a brisk young widow
Brisk young widow
Thank you.