Village Virtue

Jenny was my first sweetheart;

Poor lass! she was none too smart.

Though I swore she'd never rue it,

She would never let me do it.

When I tried she made a fuss,

So damn pure and virtuous.

Girls should cozen all they can,

Use their wiles to get their man.

June, my second, was no prude;

Too good-looking to be good;

Wanton and a giddy-gadder,

Never knew who might have had her;

Kept me mad and jumping jealous,

Tempting all the other fellows

Like a wayside flower to pluck her:

So at last I had to chuck her.

Now I'm settled down with Jill,

And we're safely married still.

She began to wail and worry,

So we wedded in a hurry.

Well, it's quite all right that way -

We're all made of common clay,

And the grey-haired folk that bore us

Just as wanton were before us.

June, I hear, now lives in London

Where, I fear, she's sadly undone.

Jenny, still as virtuous

Missed the matrimonial bus,

Where our "first" set gossips buzzin'

Jill and I now have a dozen,

Ready in their turn to prove

There's no chastity in love.

June, so fickle and so fair,

Common was as barber's chair;

Jill provides me with good grub,

Lets me go nights to the pub.

Though her silver hairs are many,

One eve I might call on Jenny . . .

She may not need too much urging:

Must be hell to die a virgin.