Now lithe and listen, gentles all,
Now lithe ye all and hark
Unto a ballad I shall sing
About Buena Park.
Of all the wonders happening there
The strangest hap befell
Upon a famous April morn,
As you I now shall tell.
It is about the Taylor pup
And of his mistress eke,
And of the pranking time they had
That I would fain to speak.