Catches, canons and drinking songs

to your rude health,

Text: At the song of my lady’s lace,‥


At the song of my lady’s lace,
which a Derbyshire lady took ill,
quoth she to her neighbour Grace,
”’Tis immodest, I cannot sit still,”
so she nustled and bustled about,
and out of the room she went,
but nobody followed her out,
for she dropped an unfavourly scent,
truth needs no deceiving art,
and if I may speak what I think,
she had let a soft fizzing fart,
and went out of the room to stink.

Songs with this text:

Version 8e32e8d8d4ff87611fd1ef7b6f028a335f89012d (2021-10-22T17:00:34+01:00)