Heigh-ho! for a husband!— Heigh-ho...

By George Pope Morris

Heigh-ho! for a husband!— Heigh-ho!

There's danger in longer delay!

Shall I never again have a beau?

Will nobody marry me, pray!

I begin to feel strange, I declare!

With beauty my prospects will fade —

I'd give myself up to despair

If I thought I should die an old maid!

I once cut the beaux in a huff —

I thought it a sin and a shame

That no one had spirit enough

To ask me to alter my name.

So I turned up my nose at the short,

And cast down my eyes at the tall;

But then I just did it in sport —

And now I've no lover at all!

These men are the plague of my life:

‘ Tis hard from so many to choose!

Should any one wish for a wife,

Could I have the heart to refuse?

I do n't know — for none have proposed —

Oh, dear me!— I'm frightened, I vow!

Good gracious! who ever supposed

That I should be single till now?