A garden was planted by Nature, Man could not produce in his life, But no rest had he till his Creator Discovered he wanted a wife. He had horses and foxes for hunting Which most men love dearly as life, No relishsome food was a wanting But still--he was short of a wife. 3 As Adam was resting in slumber, He lost a small rib from his side, And when he awoke--'twas in wonder, To see a most beautiful bride. In transport he gazèd upon her, His happiness now was complete. He praisèd the bountiful Donor, Who to him had given a mate. 4 She was not taken out of his head, sir, To rule and to triumph in man. Nor was she took out of his foot, sir, By him to be trampled upon. But she was took out of his side, sir, His equal co-partner to be; So, united is man with his bride, sir, Yet man is the top of the tree. 5 Then let not the fair be despisèd By man, as she's part of himself. Let woman by man be a-prizèd As more than the world full of wealth. A man without woman's a beggar, Tho' by him the world were possess'd But a beggar that's got a good woman With more than the world is he bless'd. No. 101 I RODE MY LITTLE HORSE F.W.B. [Music] 1 I rode my little horse, from London town I came, I rode into the country, to seek myself a dame, And if I meet a pretty maid, be sure I'll kiss her then; And swear that I will marry her--but will not tell her _when_! 2 I found a buxom widow, with many tons of gold, I lived upon her fortune, as long as it would hold. Of pounds I took five hundred, bestrode my horse, and then, I promised I would marry her--but never told her _when_! 3 A vintner had a daughter, the Golden Sun his sign, I tarried at his tavern, I drank his choicest wine; I drank out all his cellar, bestrode my horse, and then, I said the maid I'd marry,--but never told him _when_! 4 The guineas are expended, the wine is also spent; The widow and the maiden, they languish and lament. And if they come to seek me, I'll pack them back again, With promises of marriage,--but never tell them _when_. 5 My little horse I mounted, the world that I might see, I found a pretty maiden--as poor as poor could be. My little horse neglected, to London ran away, I asked if she would marry, and bade her name the day. No. 102 AMONG THE NEW-MOWN HAY C.J.S. [Music] 1 As I walked out one morn betime, To view the fields in May, Sir, There I espied a fair sweet maid, Among the new-mown hay, Sir. Among the new-mown hay. 2 I said: 'Good morning, pretty maid, How come you here so soon, say?' 'To keep my father's sheep,' she said, 'A thing that must be done, aye! Among the new-mown hay. 3 'While they be feeding mid the dew, To pass the time away, Sir! I sit me down to knit and sew, Among the new-mown hay, Sir! Among the new-mown hay.'