I married with a scolding wife
The fouteenth of November,
She made me weary of my life
By one unruly member.
Long did I bear the heavy yoke
And many griefs attended,
But to my comfort be it spoke
Now, now her life is ended.
We liv'd full one-and-twenty years
A man and wife together,
At length from me her course she steer'd
And gone I know not whither;
Would I could guess, I do profess
I speak and donot flatter
Of all the women in the world
I never would come at her.
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Her body is bestowed well
A handsome grave does hide her,
But sure her soul is not in hell
The deil would ne'er abide her;
I rather think she is aloft
And imitating thunder;
For why? methinks I hear her voice
Tearing the clouds asunder.
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