Meanwhile, I found this at The Library of Congress American Memory Collection
FAITHLESS MARIA
SHE LIVED IN THE LAND OF GREEN-GINGER.
Written and Sung by Harry Clifton.
Oh! pity me, pray, and hear what I've to say:
For, my bosom has been set on fire
By one I consider'd as true as the day;
But now she's a faithless Maria.
And when I recount all my troubles and woes,
And miseries which to you now I'll disclose,
You'll say in this world you would hardly suppose
There was such a false maid as Maria.
CHORUS: I may be to blame, but I love her the same,
Though my feelings she tried hard to injure;
She's as false as she's fair, and she's twelve pounds a-year,
And she lives in the land of Green Ginger.
I'm a journeyman baker, and first went to Hull
One Saturday night in September;
And Maria, a cook, and her elegant look
I shall ever have cause to remember.
Each day on my round I would go with my bread,
Contented till love nearly turned my poor head,
You see how I blush, and my face will go red,
When I mention the name of Maria. CHORUS
I called every morning, and how she would run,
When I knocked and shouted out: "Baker,"
And smiled, too beside when I said: "For my bride
I would take her and never forsake her!"
But a policeman came on the Green Ginger beat,
And as they're always looking for something to eat,
No matter if pudding that's stale, or cold meat,
Of course, he made love to Maria. CHORUS
At last when I asked her to settle the day,
She said with a smile of derision:
"She rather would marry her officer bold,
Who belonged to the borough division:
"What! deceive your poor Baker who loves you so true!"
She only said, "Rubbish," and answered, "Pooh, Pooh."
My heart it went down like a lump of stale dough,
As I took a last look at Maria. CHORUS
I could weep, I could cry, I shall pine, I shall die,
Each day I get thinner and thinner,
I grieve at my meals whether supper or tea,
And I fret at my breakfast and dinner.
You see at a glance how I'm wasting away,
Like butter exposed on a hot summer's day,
I nearly drop down when I hear the folks say:
"There's the Baker who once loved Maria." CHORUS
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