Page:The Bab Ballads.djvu/37

Rh "Decide!" quoth they, "let him be named,  Who henceforth as his wife may rank you." "I've changed my views," the maiden said, "I only marry curates, thank you!"

Says, "Here is goings on!  To bust myself with rage I'm ready." "I'll be a curate," whispers — "And I," exclaimed poetic.



But while they read for it, these chaps, The curate booked the maiden bonny— And when she's buried him, perhaps, She'll marry or.