Digital Tradition Mirror

Poor Man's Sorrows

Poor Man's Sorrows

When I was a young man, I liv'd rarely,
Yet my mind was not content
Till I had a young wife to live by me.
Then my sorrows did commence.

The very first year as I was married,
Scarce one hour could I get any sleep.
She rubb'd by shins till the blood did tingle,
Crying out, "Husband, are you asleep?"

The very next year as I was married,
A fine young baby there was born.
My wife forsook it and I took to it,
Wrapp'd it up in flannel warm.

As I sat nursing at the side of the fire,
My wife came in as black as a gun,
And slap! came her fist into my face.
A poor man's sorrow's never done.

When I came home both wet and weary,
No dry clothes for to put on,
It's enough to drive any poor man crazy,
A poor man's sorrow's never done.

Come all young men who mean to marry,
Be careful how you choose a wife,
For if you should marry my wife's sister,
She'll prove a devil all the days of her life.

For the women want such a deal of pleasing,
I cannot please them, do all I can,
But it's very well I know their meaning,
When they cry out, "Husband, come, come, come."

"Noted by George Gardner from Charles Chivers,
Basingstoke, Hampshire August 1906."
From The Constant Lovers, pp. 71-72

XX

Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!

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