When church was over out she walk'd, but I did overtake her,
Determin’d I would not be baulk’d,—I spoke to Betsey Baker.
Her manners were genteel and cool, I found on conversation,
She’d just come from boarding school, and finish’d 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 forc’d 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 pray where’s thy pain,’ says I, ‘ Sir, Betsey Baker.’
Because I was not bad enough, he bolus’d and he pill’d me,
And if I had taken all his stuff, I think he must ha’ kill’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.