Classic Poem

Nineteen long lines hanging over my door
The faster I work it will shorten my score
But when I do play it will stand at my stay
So my little finger must twink it away
For after tomorrow comes my wedding day
My shoes are to borrow, my husband to seek
For I cannot get married till after next week
And after next week it will be all my care
To pink and to curl and to do up my hair
Six pretty maidens so neat and so clean
Shall dance at my wedding next Monday morning
Down in the kitchen the cook she will run
And tell Mr Bellman to ring the ting tang
I'll tell father when father comes home
What a day's work my mother has done
She's earned a penny, she's spent a crown
She's burnt a great hole in her holiday gown
She's earned a penny, she's spent a groat
She's burnt a great hole in her holiday coat
Father came home in an angry fit
And swore a pottle loaf should last us a week
He cut himself up into wee little bits
I all the time wonder at his naughty tricks
Father whipped mother and mother whipped me
So there was such a racket you seldom do see
Then mother she sent me a long way from home
She sent me to go by the beats of the drum
The beats of the drum and sweet music did play
For that was my grandmother's grand wedding day
The miller was driving his waggon along
The trees were in blossom, the nuts were so brown
They hang so ripe they won't come down
You buy plums, I'll buy flour
We'll have a pudding in half an hour.