Collected by Max Hunter (H-11)
For Mary C. Parler
Transcribed by Frances Majors
Recited by T. R. Hammond
September 17, 1958
Reel 255-56, Item 17
Oh, John had just married and brought home a bride,
A graceful and buxom and beautiful miss;
And when by the altar he stood by her side,
It seemed that the last drop in his cupfull of bliss.
Indeed she was one of the fairest of creatures;
Her lips were as rubies, her teeth were as pearls.
The rose might have borrowed its hue from her features;
The sunlight was mocked by the bright golden curls.
With feasting and music the bright moments flew,
Till midnight approached, and the bride and the groom,
After bidding their friends and companions adieu,
Retired together, of course, to their room.
There her beautiful wreath and her gossamer veil
O'er the top of the bureau she carefully laid;
And then placed her dress with the long silken trail
Over the back of the chair by the side of the bed.
Then one by one, but I'll not call the names
Of the various garments embroidered in white;
Nor the feeling that over this young husband came
As he set and observed her disrobe for the night.
From her cheeks came a plumper, which lest she might lose them,
She placed in the toilet box, two of the rest;
Then swiftly detached the full palpitate bosom
Her lover so fondly, so blindly, had pressed.
Then touching a spring that was hidden somewhere,
Her lower limbs parted precisely in halves;
She laid on the chair her last sufficence,
A pair of fat calves.
Her dissection completed, she plunged under cover
Like a lass that into the rivulet might drop;
Then tenderly asked of her motionless lover,
"My darling, how long do you intend to sit up?"
"My dear, I am quite undecided," he said,
"Which course would be proper and fair:
To follow the fraction that's got into bed,
Or to remain with the parts that is piled on the chair."
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