Tell me, what’s a girl to do
When the gossoons court and cozen?
Some have none and some have two,
More can count a baker’s dozen.
Mary, Mary, by and by,
With the woman in you wakin’,
Boundin’ heart and laughin’ eye,
There’ll be murder, no mistakin’.
Cornered sits each captive lad
Gazin’ vacant at the rafter,