One morning, one morning, one morning in May
I heard a fair damsel so sweetly did say
Sitting under a cow a-milking,
"Thank God I'll get married a-Sunday
Up stepped an old man and to her did say,
"Where is your wedding, oh where might it be?"
"Away down yonder, 'neath a green willow tree.
I'm fourteen years old, a-Sunday."
"Fourteen years old is too young to get married.
A maid at your age is too apt to get sorry.
Seven long years you still have to tarry.
Put off your wedding a-Sunday."
"Old man, old man, you're talking a skill!
Seven long years to serve against will.
And my mind I intend to fulfill
And I wish tomorrow were Sunday.
Yesterday I walked down in town
With a bunch of blue ribbon and a new sundown
To invite those ladies down in town
Up to my wedding a-Sunday.
My bonnet, my shawl lie there on the shelf
My sweetheart will be here before I get dressed
With a bunch of blue ribbons to tie round my waist
To fix me up neat against Sunday."
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From the singing of William Harrison Burnett. Thanks to Julie Henigan for introducing me to this song.
