She sat with her hands ’neath her dimpled cheeks
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese),
And spake not a word. While a lady speaks
There is hope, but she didn’t even sneeze.
She sat, with her hands ’neath her crimson cheeks
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese);
She gave up mending her father’s breeks,
And let the cat roll in her new chemise.
She sat, with her hands ’neath her burning cheeks
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese),
And gazed at the piper for thirteen weeks;
Then she follow’d him out o’er the misty leas.
Her sheep follow’d her, as their tails did them
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese),
And this song is consider’d a perfect gem,
And as to the meaning, it’s what you please.
_Charles S. Calverley._