My pretty maid fain would I know
What thing it is will breed delight,
That strives to stand yet can not go
That feeds the mouth that can not bite.
cho: With a humbledum grumbledum humbledum grumbledum
Humbledum grumbledum hey,
With a humbledum grumbledum humbledum grumbledum
Humbledum grumbledum hey.
It is a pretty pricking thing
A pleasing and a standing thing
'Twas the truncheon Mars did use
A bed-ward bit which maidens choose
It is a shaft od Cupid's cut
'Twill serve to rove, to prick, to butt
There's never a maid, but by her will
Will keep it in her quiver still.
'Tis a Fryer with a bald-head
A staff to beat a cuckold dead
It is a gun that shoots point-blank
It hits betwixt a woman's flank
It has a head much like a mole's
And yet it loves to creep in holes
The fairest She that e'er took life
For love of this became a wife.
From Pills to Purge Melancholy, D'Urfey v. 4