From Bodleian Library Broadside Ballads, Harding B 25(2022):

WEEKS WORK COMPLETED
C. Croshaw, Printer, Coppergate, York [between 1814 and 1850]

On Monday morning, I married a wife,
Thinking to lead a sober life,
But instead of being married, I had better been dead
Than ever enjoy'd my marriage bed.
                                      Laddeio.

On Tuesday morning, to my surprise,
A little before the sun did rise,
She opened her clappers, began to roar.
I thought in my heart she would never give o'er.
                                      Laddeio.

On Wednesday morning, I went into the wood,
Thinking to do my wife a little good.
I cut a twig of the holly so green,
As fine a twig as ever was seen.
                                      Laddeio.

On Thursday morning, I put it to dry.
On Friday morning, I did it try.
I beat her back and beat her ribs
Until I broke my holly twig.
                                      Laddeio.

On Saturday morning, she began to roar.
I thought she'd never give o'er.
The devil came in the height of the game
And stole her away both blind and lame.
                                      Laddeio.

On Sunday noon I dined without
A scolding wife or a brawling bout;
So now I will enjoy my bottle and my friend,
And have I not made a rare week's end?
                                      Laddeio.