QUOTH JOHN TO JOAN

Quoth John to Joan, will thou have me:

I prithee now, wilt? and I'll marry thee,

My cow, my calf, my house, my rents,

And all my lands and tenements:

Oh, say, my Joan, will not that do?

I cannot come every day to woo.

I've corn and hay in the barn hard-by,

And three fat hogs pent up in the sty,

I have a mare and she is coal black,

I ride on her tail to save my back.

Then, say, my Joan, will not that do?

I cannot come every day to woo.

I have a cheese upon the shelf,

And I cannot eat it all myself;

I've three good marks that lie in a rag,

In a nook of the chimney, instead of a bag.

Then, say, my Joan, will not that do?

I cannot come every day to woo.

To marry I would have thy consent,

But faith I never could compliment;

I can say nought but "Hoy, gee ho!"

Words that belong to the cart and the plough.

Oh, say, my Joan, will not that do?

I cannot come every day to woo.