The whisk-tailed merchant bade her taste
Bob at our cherries,
Somebody embroidered the doily.
"Come buy our orchard fruits,
and several quick and saucy
Like two pigeons in one nest
And said the bank was steep.
Shall with my harp her voice combine,
A poet could not be but gay,
Brother with queer brother;
The whisk-tailed merchant bade her taste
Bob at our cherries,
Somebody embroidered the doily.
"Come buy our orchard fruits,
and several quick and saucy
Like two pigeons in one nest
And said the bank was steep.
Shall with my harp her voice combine,
A poet could not be but gay,
Brother with queer brother;