A collection of comic songs :: :: University of Virginia Library

A collection of comic songs

written, Compil'd, Etch'd and Engrav'd, by J. Robertson; and sung by him At the theatres Nottingham, Derby, Stamford, Halifax, Chesterfield, and Redford

Robertson, J. (fl. 1770-1790)

[section]

Collapse All | Expand All expand section

A Medley Song.

Hush! every breeze; let nothing move; My Delia sings, and sings—

O, dear, what can the matter be? O, dear,—
I did not much like for to go aboard of ship,

Where in danger there's no door to creep out;
I lik'd—

The streamlet that flow'd round her cot,
All the charms, all the charms of—

The true last dying speech and confession, birth, parentage, and education, life, character, and behaviour, of—

Sir Solomon Simon, when he did wed,
Blush'd black as a crow, his fair lady did blush light,
The clock struck 12, they were tuck'd in bed,—

And they sung fal de ral tit, tit fal de ra, tit fal de ra, and—
Says he, my dearest Nell o,
I'll kiss you here, by this good light,
Lord, what a—

Charming Clorinda—

On Richmond Hill there liv'd a lass,
More blithe than May-day morn,—

But she had a timber toe; but she had a gimlet eye; and she had—

Yorkshire muffins, one a penny, two a penny,—

Pretty damsels, ugly damsels, black hair'd damsels, red hair'd damsels, Six-foot damsels, three-foot damsels, pale-fac'd damsels, plump-fac'd damsels, Small-leg'd damsels, thick-leg'd damsels, dainty damsels, dowdy damsels, Pretty, ugly, black-hair'd, red-hair'd, six foot, three foot, pale-fac'd, plump-fac'd, small-leg'd, thick-leg'd, dainty, dowdy, all run, all run after—

A flaxen-headed cow-boy that whistled—
Diddle diddle dumplings, my son John,
Went to bed with his breeches on;
One shoe off, and—
Oh, what pleasure will abound,

When my wife lies under ground;
Oh, what pleasure will abound,
When my wife lies under—
Great George our king,
Long live our noble king,
God save the king.
Send him—

Bacon, beans, salt beef and cabbage, butter, milk, and—

Sing ka ba, ba ba, ba wa wow, eh. Shew 'em in there! Mr. Punch, what is the matter with you? Do you know I once made 1000 Frenchmen run? (imitating punch)
How run? After me, you fool, to be sure. Ba**a**w. (imitating a lion)
Shew 'em in, there! Only hear the lion how he sings—

Old king Cole, was a merry old soul,
And he caus'd the bells to ring;
He kick'd out of doors—

Five-and-twenty parliament-men all on a row—there was Lord McIville and Mr. Whitbread, up to their elbows in suds; bucking away, trussing up—Ah, goody, goody, you and I are the only people that work hard for bread, all other work is merely fiddle faddle, diddle daddle, double simi dimi quibble, down below—It is my lady's birth-day, therefore, we'll sing—

Increase to our trade—I know you wish the same,
And to each hearty cock that's deserving the name;
And long life to King George, for he's cock of the game,
With his tuck tuck, tuck, fal de ral, lal de ral—
tuck, tuck, tuck, fal de ral, lal de ral— (crow like a cock)

—fal de ral, la ral lal, fal de ral la.