’Tis useless all my weeping, Katee Darling, But I wish to goodness now you were my bride, And I’d give two shillings directly, Katee Darling, If I were only by your side. Oh, a great big coat I’m wearing, And I scarce can heave a sigh, But I’ll never leave off drinking, Katee Darling, Every day that I can get it till I die. Then hear me, sweet Katee, The policeman now has got me, Katee Darling, And no one knows when I’ll again be free; In the lonely Tombs come and greet me, Katee Darling, For there I’ll be waiting for thee. Vilikins and His Dinah! 24 ’Tis of a rich merchant who in London did dwell, He had but one daughter, an unkimmon nice young gal; Her name--it was Dinah, scarce sixteen years old, With a very large fortune in silver and gold. Singing, to la lol la rol lall to ral lal la. As Dinah was a valiking the garden one day, Her papa he came to her, and thus he did say, “Go dress yourself, Dinah, in georgeous array, And take yourself a husiband, both galliant and gay.” Singing, &c. “Oh papa, oh papa, I’ve not made up my mind, And to marry just yet, why I don’t feel inclined; To you my large fortune I’ll gladly give o’er, If you’ll let me live single a year or two more.” Singing, &c. “Go, go, boldest daughter,” the parient replied, “If you won’t consent to be this here young man’s bride, I’ll give your large fortune to the nearest of kin, And you shan’t reap the benefit of one single pin.” Singing, &c. As Vilikins was valiking the garden around, He spied his dear Dinah lying dead upon the ground, And the cup of cold pison, it lay by her side, With a billet-doux a stating, ’twas by pison she died. Singing, &c. He kiss’d her cold corpus a thousand times o’er, And call’d her his Dinah though she was no more, Then swallow’d the pison like a lovyer so brave, And Vilikins and his Dinah lie both in one grave. Singing, &c. MORAL. Now all you young maidens take warning by her, Never not by no means disobey your guverner; And all you young fellows, mind who you clasp eyes on, Think of Vilikins and his Dinah and the cup of cold pison. Singing &c. Comic Parody. 25 ’Tis of a rich Dutchman in Niew York did live; He had von fine daughter you petter pelieve; Her name vas Katarina, so fair ash a rose, Un she had a large fortune in the hands of old Mose.