You can find my blog post on this song here: “Expensive, Nervous, Sexual”.
I’m a widow worth having on whom fortune smiles,
And the best natur’d soul you could meet with for miles.
Not given to slander, to gossip or scold,
In person a lady well bred and not old.
I’m so very domestic I never go out,
Unless to the opera, the play or a rout,
And I seldom go there more than four times a week,
So for pleasure you see that I don’t care to seek,
So for pleasure you see that I don’t care to seek.
I’m not sickly nor ailing, so don’t lose the chance,
But muster up courage and make the advance,
With spasms hysterics and other strange fits,
Don’t think I shall frighten you out of your wits,
My health is so good that I’ve no doctor’s bills,
Except for a few dozen powders or pills,
So fees to physicians you see ‘tis quite clear,
‘Could never be more than two hundred a year,
‘Could never be more than two hundred a year.
I’ve no wish to hurry, but be not too late,
So pray pop the question, and don’t me wait,
Should a suitor propose who knows what he’s about,
I’m sure that my value he’d quickly find out,
His mind I’d improve as I’m almost a blue,
And would read him each novel, twice thoroughly through,
In the highest of circles he’d then be the rage,
So haste and secure the lone bird in her cage,
So haste and secure the lone bird in her cage.
My first husband’s loss was a terrible blow,
And only a second can cure me, I know,
For his dear loving heart I do nothing but fret,
And I feel I shall weep, till another I get,
The silk bands of Hymen now broken in twain,
The roses of love must unite once again,
So if of my hand you the owner would be,
Write a line to the post and direct ABC,
Write a line to the post and direct ABC.