Betsey Baker (1829)/Betsey Baker

BETSEY BAKER.

AIR.———“ Push about the Jorum.”

As Sung by Mr. Potts, Theatrical Pavilion Glasgow.

From noise and bustle far away,
⁠Hard work my time employing,
How happily I passed each day,
⁠Content and health enjoying;
The birds did sing and so did I,
⁠As I trudged o’er each acre,
I never knew what ’twas to sigh,
⁠Till I saw Betsey Baker.

At church I met her dressed so neat,
⁠One Sunday in hot weathr
With love I found my heart did beat,
⁠As we sung psalms together.
So piously she hung her head,
⁠The while her voice did shake, ah!
I thought if ever I did wed,
⁠’Twould be with Betsey Baker.

So from her side I could not budge,
⁠And sure I thought no harm on’t,
My elbow then she gave a nudge,
⁠And bade me mind the sarment.
When church was over out she walked,
⁠But I did overtake her,
Determined I would not be baulked,
⁠———I spoke to Betsey Baker.

Her manners were genteel and cool,
⁠I found on conversation,
She had just come from boarding-school,
⁠And finished her education:
But love made me speak out quite free;
⁠Says I, “I’ve many an acre,
Will you give me your company?”
⁠———“I sha’nt,” said Betsey Baker.

All my entreaties she did slight,
⁠And I was forced to leave her,
I got no sleep all that there night,
⁠For love had brought a fever.
The doctor came, he smelt his cane,
⁠With long face like a quaker,
Said he, “young man, where lies thy pain?”
⁠Says I, “In Betsey Baker.”

Because I was not bad enough,
⁠He boluss'd and he pill’d me,
And if I’d taken all his stuff,
⁠I think he would ha’ kil'd me ;
I put an end to all the strife,
⁠’Twixt him and the undertaker,
And what d'ye think ’twas saved my ⟨life⟩,
⁠———Why, thoughts of Betsey Baker.

I then again to Betsey went,
⁠Once more with love attacked her,
But, meantime, she had got acquaint
⁠With a ramping mad play-actor:
If she would have him, he did say,
⁠A lady he would make her;
He gammoned her to run away,
⁠And I lost Betsey Baker.

I fretted very much to find
⁠My hopes of love so undone,
And mother thought ’twould ease my mind
⁠If I came up to London;
But though I strive another way,
⁠My thoughts will ne’er forsake her;
I dream all night and think all day
⁠Of cruel Betsey Baker.

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