My thing is my own, and I'll keep it so still,
Other young lasses may do as they will,
My thing is my own, and I'll keep it apart,
And no man shall have it 'till I have his heart.
A master of music came with intent
To give me a lesson on my instrument.
I thanked him for nothing, and bid him be gone,
For my little fiddle must not be played on.
A cunning clockmaker did court me as well,
And promised me riches if I'd ring his bell.
So I looked at his clockwork, and said with a shock,
"Your pendulum's far too small for my clock."
A blunt lieutenant suprised my placket
And speedily started to rifle and sack it.
So I roused myself, and I became bold,
And forced my lieutenant to quit my stronghold.
Well, I could brag of a hundred or more
Besides all the jokers recited before
Who made their addresses in hopes of a snap,
But young as I was, I understood that...
As sung by Ann & Nancy Wilson on Windham Hill's "The Renaissance Album"; verse 3 and the 2nd half of the chorus copyright 1999, J. Friedman); song originally from the anthology "Pills to Purge Melancholy" (1719).
People laugh more and more at Willie of Winsbury though, even in the non-funny spots. I will never get used to this solo singing thing. Your audience is always suprising you.
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