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
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