Oh lor! when we left each other
He presented me a thimble—
As a pledge, a silver thimble,
Ouch! my sweetheart, my Bee-no-nee!
“I’ll go ’long with you,” he whispered,
Oh lor! to the place you come from;
“Let me go along,” he whispered,—
Ouch! my sweetheart, my Bee-no-nee!
“It’s awful fur, full fur,” I answered,
“Fur away it is,” I answered,