This is SIR BARNABY BAMPTON BOO,
Last of a noble race,
BARNABY BAMPTON, coming to woo,
All at a deuce of a pace.
BARNABY BAMPTON BOO,
Here is a health to you:
Here is wishing you luck, you elderly buck -BARNABY BAMPTON BOO!
The excellent women of Tuptonvee
Knew SIR BARNABY BOO;
One of them surely his bride would be,
But dickens a soul knew who.
Women of Tuptonvee,
Here is a health to ye
For a Baronet, dears, you would cut off your ears,Women of Tuptonvee!
Here are old MR. and MRS. DE PLOW
(PETER his Christian name),
They kept seven oxen, a pig, and a cow -
Farming it was their game.
Worthy old PETER DE PLOW,
Here is a health to thou:
Your race isn't run, though you're seventy-one,Worthy old PETER DE PLOW!
To excellent MR. and MRS. DE PLOW
Came SIR BARNABY BOO,
He asked for their daughter, and told 'em as howHe was as rich as a Jew.
BARNABY BAMPTON'S wealth,
Here is your jolly good health:
I'd never repine if you came to be mine,
BARNABY BAMPTON'S wealth!
"O great SIR BARNABY BAMPTON BOO"
(Said PLOW to that titled swell),
"My missus has given me daughters two -
AMELIA and VOLATILE NELL!"
AMELIA and VOLATILE NELL,
I hope you're uncommonly well:
You two pretty pearls - you extremely nice girls -AMELIA and VOLATILE NELL!
"AMELIA is passable only, in face,
But, oh! she's a worthy girl;
Superior morals like hers would grace
The home of a belted Earl."
Morality, heavenly link!
To you I'll eternally drink:
I'm awfully fond of that heavenly bond,
Morality, heavenly link!
"Now NELLY'S the prettier, p'raps, of my gals,But, oh! she's a wayward chit;
She dresses herself in her showy fal-lals,And doesn't read TUPPER a bit!"
O TUPPER, philosopher true,
How do you happen to do?
A publisher looks with respect on your books,For they DO sell, philosopher true!
The Bart.
(I'll be hanged if I drink him again,
Or care if he's ill or well),
He sneered at the goodness of MILLY THE PLAIN,And cottoned to VOLATILE NELL!
O VOLATILE NELLY DE P.!
Be hanged if I'll empty to thee:
I like worthy maids, not mere frivolous jades,VOLATILE NELLY DE P.!
They bolted, the Bart. and his frivolous dear,And MILLY was left to pout;
For years they've got on very well, as I hear,But soon he will rue it, no doubt.
O excellent MILLY DE PLOW,
I really can't drink to you now;
My head isn't strong, and the song has been long,Excellent MILLY DE PLOW!
