THE QUAKER DUET.=
O Tabitha, in truth, I'm a sober Quaker youth;
Then Hymen's knot, the pretty girls, to spite'em, tye.
My heart is in your trap; you've crimp'd it, like your
cap;
And much the spurrit moves me—hum!—to—
Poll.......Tye turn tye!
And when the knot is tyed, and you're my blushing
bride,
The damsels will (for leading apes must fright'em,)
tye
The rosy bands with speed. O yes, they will, indeed!
And the chorus at our meeting will be—
Poll.......Tye tum tye!
I cannot hear you sigh, ah! I will not see you cry, ah!
My constant Obadi-ah I to unite'em; tye
Our hands and hearts in one, before to-morrow's sun—
Then take thy tender Tabitha to—
Poll.......Tye turn tye!