Lyr. Add: THE APPLE TREE: parody)
Parody on "The Willow Tree"

1
Oh! take me to your arms, my love,
For bright the moon doth shine;
Oh! take me to your arms, my love,
Or I'll take you to mine!
She left her bed, popp'd out her head,
"Begone! you rogue," says she;
Come down, says I, or here I'll lie,
Beneath this apple tree.
2
My love had wealth and beauty,
But soon her cash run shy;
My love had wealth and beauty,
But she had lost one eye.
Her foot, so fair, trip down the stair!
Her auburn locks so red;
Then in I crept, where Judy slept,
Beneath her tester bed.
3
Next morn I woke quite early,
And sat me up on end;
Next morn I woke quite early,
And sought to seek my friend:
My wife was gone- my friend was flown-
My love, he stole her snug;
So down I lay, in bed all day,
Beneath the worsted rug.

Ballads Cat. 2806 c 18(337), with "The Willow Tree," J. Pollock, North Shields, c. 1815-1855. Bodleian Collection.