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5o._ ROBIN-A-THRUSH.
1 O Robin-a-Thrush he married a wife, With a hoppety, moppety, mow, now, She proved to be the plague of his life, With a hig-jig-jiggety, ruffety petticoat, Robin-a-Thrush cries mow, now!
2   She never gets up till twelve o'clock, Puts on her gown and above it her smock.
3   She sweeps the house but once a year; The reason is that the brooms are dear.
4   She milks her cows but once a week, And that's what makes her butter sweet.
5   The butter she made in an old man's boot; For want of a churn she clapp'd in her foot.
6   Her cheese when made was put on the shelf, And it never was turned till it turned of itself.
7   It turned and turned till it walked on the floor, It stood upon legs and walked to the door.
8   It walked till it came to Banbury Fair; The dame followed after upon a grey mare.
9  This song it was made for gentlemen,
If you want any more you must sing it again.
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E-Book - An Annotated Compendium of Old Time American Songs by James Alverson III