Chorus—When they talk of love, I wriggle, &c.
So very soon to Church we shall be gowing,
While the bells ring out a merry peal of jy.
If obedience you do not hear me vowing,
It will only be because I am so shy.
[We have brought the rhyme off legitimately at last, it will be observed.
Spoken—Yes, and when I'm passing down the oil, on Chorley's arm, with everybody looking at me,—
Chorus—I am certain I shall wriggle,
And go off into a giggle,
And as red as any peony I'll blush.
Going through the marriage service
Will be sure to mike me nervous,
[Note the freedom of the rhyme.
And to put me in a flutter and a flush!
v.—THE AMATORY EPISODIC.
The history of a singer's latest love—whether fortunate or otherwise—will always command the interest and attention of a Music-hall audience. Our example, which is founded upon the very best precedents, derives an additional piquancy from the social position of the beloved object. Cultivated readers are requested not to shudder at the rhymes. Mr. Punch's Poet does them deliberately and in cold blood, being convinced that without these somewhat daring concords, no ditty would have the slightest chance of satisfying the great ear of the Music-hall public.
The title of the song is:—