Oh, a dainty plant is the cabbage green
Wot grows in a garden bold;
With a gammon of bacon, half fat and lean,
He’s good either hot or cold.
His heart must be tender and not decay’d,
To please your dainty whim;
And the chap as loves cabbage, I’ll tell the blade
It’s a precious meal for him.
Sprouting out of the ground is seen,
A rare old plant is the cabbage green;