THE MAIDEN'S VOW.
A fair little maid was working one day,
Embroid'ring a slipper was she;
At every stitch she'd merrily sing:
"I'm sure this will not fit me!
So when it is done I'll lay it aside.
And no more embroider or knit;
But here make a vow, that I'll be the bride
Of him that the shoe will fit."
Then all that have feet, or narrow or wide.
Who fear not receiving the mitt;
Oh, hastily ride, for she'll be the bride
Of him whom the shoe shall fit.
The first one that came to try on the shoe.
A man of great riches was he;
But pull as he may. yet all he can do,
Still leaves the fair maiden free.
Then came they in scores, and long did they try.
And screw their feet this way and that;
But all to no end, for some were too high.
Too low, or too thin or too fat
So all the gay swains who merrily tried
To win the fair maid got the mitt;
And some prophesied she'd ne'er be a bride,
For none would the shoe ever fit.
At length there came in, so saucy and sly,
Young Willie, the brave and the true;
At once on his foot, tho' scarce did he try.
He fitted this far famed shoe.
The little fair maid was won in this way,
Tho' gossips have had the small wit,
To say that she knew for many a day,
The one that the shoe would tit.
And now all the rest away quickly ride,
And pocket in quiet the mitt;
For this little maid is now the loved bride
Of him whom the shoe did fit.