She won’t get up to serve her swine,
But lies in bed till eight or nine,
And surely she does take her time.
And do you ken Elsie Marley, honey?
The wife that sells the barley, honey;
She’s lost her pocket and all her money,
Aback o’ the bush i’ th’ garden, honey.
Elsie Marley is so neat,
It is hard for one to walk the street,
But every lad and lass they meet,