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YOUNG ROUSELLE
Young Rousselle, he has daughters three,
Married as well as you'd wish to see;
Two, one could scarcely beauties call,
And the third, she has just no brains at all.
Ah! ah! ah! truth to tell,
A jolly good chap is Young Rousselle.
Young Rousselle, he has farthings three, —
To pay his creditors these must be;
And, when he has shown these riches vast,
He puts them back in his purse at last.
Ah! ah! ah! truth to tell,
A jolly good chap is Young Rousselle.
Young Rousselle, he will run his rig
A long while yet ere he hops the twig.
For, so they say, he must learn to spell
To write his own epitaph,—Young Rousselle!
Ah! ah! ah! truth to tell,
A jolly good chap is Young Rousselle.
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