There was a little man
And he wooed a little maid
And he said, “Little maid, will you wed, wed, wed?
I have little more to say
Than will you, yea or nay?
For the least said is soonest mended, ded, ded.”
Then this little maid, she said,
“Little sir, you’ve little said
To induce a little maid for to wed, wed, wed.
You must say a little more
And produce a little ore
Ere I to the church will be led, led, led.”
Then the little man replied,
“If you’ll be my little bride
I will raise my love notes a little higher, higher, higher.
Though I little love to prate
Yet you’ll find my heart is great
With the little God of Love all on fire, fire, fire.”
Then the little maid replied,
“If I should be your bride,
Pray, what must we have for to eat, eat, eat?
Will the flames that you’re so rich in
Make a fire in the kitchen
And the little God of Love turn the spit, spit, spit?”
Then the little man he sighed
And some say a little cried,
And his little heart was big with sorrow, sorrow, sorrow.
I’ll be your little slave
And if the little that I have
Be too little, little dear, I will borrow, borrow, borrow.
Then the little man so gent
Made the little maid relent
And set her little soul a-thinking, king, king.
Though his little was but small,
Yet she had his little all
And could have of a cat but her skin, skin, skin.
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