In a car the fair ladies at Brighton he drew,
Marrowbones, cherrystones,
Bundle’em jig.
And jogging along with a jolly fat crew,
Quite into the sea for coolness he flew,
And made some fine pastime for dandies to view.
Like an ambling, scambling,
Braying-sweet, turn-up feet,
Mane-cropt, tail-lopt,
High-bred, thistle-fed,
Merry old Bundle’em jig.
To the stump of his tail some gay ribands she bound,
Marrowbones, cherrystones,
Bundle’em jig.
And then at the races he tript o’er the ground,
And bore off the prize, ’ere a flea could hop round:
Though the slowest of Donkeys the winner is found,
He’s an ambling, scambling,
Braying-sweet, turn-up feet,
Mane-cropt, tail-lopt,
High-bred, thistle-fed,
Merry old Bundle’em jig.
Cries the dame, Pray turn Doctor, my honey,—d’ye see?
Marrowbones, cherrystones,
Bundle’em jig.
You’ll get high in practice, and pocket a fee:
Since many a jackass (all parties agree)
For physic is famous, though silly as thee;
Who art an ambling, scambling,
Braying-sweet, turn-up feet,
Mane-cropt, tail lopt,
High-bred, thistle-fed,
Merry old Bundle’em jig.
