MY name is ROBIN BOHUGH, My age is just twenty four, I married last summer 'tis true, For the sake of a plentiful store.

My wife is both crippled and old, She scarcely has an eye to see, I knew she'd abundance of gold, Or the de'l might have had her fr'all me.

Her husband when he was alive, He liv'd upon usury then, And oftentimes he would contrive, To fleece and devour the poor men.

But now he is laid in the dust, And I her new husband must be, Her riches she show'd me at first, Or the de'l might have had her fr'all me.

Now I am young brawny and fat, Old dolly's my comical bride, Her locks are as grey as a rat, Her nose is all turn'd to one side.

I strok'd her old cheeks, with my hand, So lovingly we did agree, I knew she'd abundance of land, Or the de'l might have had her fr'all me.

With her old stumps rotten and black, And scarcely a tooth in her head; And with a great hump on her back, Went waddling along to be wed.

I laugh'd at the comical sight, To think that the wedding must be, I knew she was glittering bright. Or the de'l might have had her fr'all me.

I formerly went to the SEAS; Where billows do bluster and roar; But now I can live at my ease, Drink wine and strong liquor, gallore.

I cast off my tarpolean rags, And now for a frolic I'm free; I knew she'd abundance in bags, Or the de'l might have had her fr'all me.

The very first visit I paid, She gave me a delicate ring, I in excess of pleasure huzza'd, And then began loudly to sing.

She pray'd for my prosperous health, And lovingly we did agree, I knew she'd abundance of wealth, Or the de'l might have had her fr'all me.

She told me that I should be heir, Of every copper, she had, And all my life handsomely fair Or you would have thought I was mad.

For the ends of my fingers did itch, To handle the money you see, I knew very well she was rich, Or the de'l might have had her fr'all me.

Sometimes with my hooks and my hounds Full often a hunting I go, Sometimes upon other men's grounds I caught a young Coney or so,

Of this I was wondrously proud, My wife to the same did agree, If liberty were not allow'd, The de'l might have had her fr'all me.

Old women love men who are young, The young men love money likewise Court them with a flattering tongue, They soon will surrender their prize.

And since 'tis my prosperous lot, I wish her no manner of ill; Since all that she has I have got, Let her die now as soon as she will.