Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold By "F. Harald Williams"[i.e. F. W. O. Ward]. First Edition |
 |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
|
| IV. |
| V. |
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
PRETTY PRISS. |
 | Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold |  |
PRETTY PRISS.
Pretty Priss, pretty Priss
Takes a coin or a kiss
Like a lady and thanks you as well,
She is good for a fight,
She is good for a night
And would dance like an angel to hell.
She may have naughty ends,
But she never pretends
To be better than others or worse;
She will give you fair play
Or the time of the day,
If desired, and wont stick at a curse.
Takes a coin or a kiss
Like a lady and thanks you as well,
She is good for a fight,
She is good for a night
And would dance like an angel to hell.
She may have naughty ends,
But she never pretends
To be better than others or worse;
She will give you fair play
Or the time of the day,
If desired, and wont stick at a curse.
Pretty Priss, pretty Priss
Deems a music-hall bliss,
And for such her spare coppers she hoards;
In her ribbons and tags
And unspeakable rags,
She would like to perform on the boards.
Though she stumbles and strays,
Still when sober she prays,
With devotion becoming to her;
And the God who's our kin
Deeper looks than the skin,
And finds pardon for pussies who err.
Deems a music-hall bliss,
And for such her spare coppers she hoards;
In her ribbons and tags
And unspeakable rags,
She would like to perform on the boards.
Though she stumbles and strays,
Still when sober she prays,
With devotion becoming to her;
And the God who's our kin
Deeper looks than the skin,
And finds pardon for pussies who err.
520
Pretty Priss, pretty Priss,
Takes no weather amiss,
And all burdens upon her sit light;
Be it famine or frost,
Yet she counts not the cost,
And is certain the end will come right.
They may praise her or scold,
Give a shilling or gold,
Or presume on their riches to strike;
For the pleasure or pain
She is ready again,
And receives every windfall alike.
Takes no weather amiss,
And all burdens upon her sit light;
Be it famine or frost,
Yet she counts not the cost,
And is certain the end will come right.
They may praise her or scold,
Give a shilling or gold,
Or presume on their riches to strike;
For the pleasure or pain
She is ready again,
And receives every windfall alike.
Pretty Priss, pretty Priss,
Do not reckon on this—
That your spirits will never run down,
And your beauty won't fade
In the gaslight and shade,
If you now are so bonny and brown.
But I feel very sure,
No misfortune will cure
You of follies like those of the past;
That your life will be short,
Kisses, ribbons and sport,
You'll be pretty and bold to the last.
Do not reckon on this—
That your spirits will never run down,
And your beauty won't fade
In the gaslight and shade,
If you now are so bonny and brown.
But I feel very sure,
No misfortune will cure
You of follies like those of the past;
That your life will be short,
Kisses, ribbons and sport,
You'll be pretty and bold to the last.
| Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold | |