As we rode in that Low Back’d Car, to be married by Father Magar,
Oh, my heart would beat high at each glance of her eye,
As we rode in the Low Back’d Car.
Poor Old Maids.
Fourscore and four of us, poor old maids,
What will become of us, poor old maids?
Fourscore and four of us,
Without a penny in our purse,
What the deuce then can be worse, poor old maids?