SONG.
A clerk I was in London gay,
Jemmy linkum feedle,
And went in boots to see the play,
Merry fiddlem tweedle.
I march'd the lobby, twirled my stick,
Diddle, daddle, deedle;
The girls all cry'd, "He's quite the kick."
Oh, Jemmy linkum feedle.
Hey! for America I sail,
Yankee doodle, deedle;
The sailor-boys cry'd, "Smoke his tail!"
Jemmy linkum feedle.
On English belles I turned my back,
Diddle, daddle, deedle;
And got a foreign fair quite black,
O twaddle, twaddle, tweedle!
Your London girls, with roguish trip,
Wheedle, wheedle, wheedle,
May boast their pouting under lip,
Fiddle, faddle, feedle.
My Wows would beat a hundred such,
Diddle, daddle, deedle,
Whose upper lip pouts twice as much,
O, pretty double wheedle!
Rings I'll buy to deck her toes;
Jemmy linkum feedle;
A feather fine shall grace her nose,
Waving siddle seedle.
With jealousy I ne'er shall burst;
Who'd steal my bone of bone-a?
A white Othello, I can trust
A dingy Desdemona.
[Exeunt.