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Come, all good people, pray attend
And listen to my ditty,
'Tis of a maid who is more fair
Than any in the city;
For Tickle Cove is her abode
She has but little fortune,
But mirthful glee it pleases me,
Being fond of all diversion.
Many a man would take her hand,
If he only got the offer,
For she's a handsome, sporting maid,
Likewise a midwife's daughter;
And in the sunshine of her smile
To bask sick swains are longing,
No wonder, then, so many men
Around her house keep thronging.
And now the names I will explain
Or else it won't be funny,
There's Conners, Prince and Foxy Jack
And likewise Bill Mullowney;
Joseph Crewe, she did ensnare
And drew his whole attention,
Another lad has gone quite mad
Whom I don't care to mention.
All were prosperous fishermen,
And if she favoured any,
A savings bank book he could show,
Recording dollars many;
But a maiden's mind is hard to find,
And you should hear our strictures;
When she got wed to travelling Ned,
Enlarging tin-type pictures.
See more songs by Mark Walker.