Nancy Dawson

Nancy Dawson was so fine
She wouldn't get up to serve the swine;
She lies in bed till eight or nine,
So it's Oh, poor Nancy Dawson.

And do ye ken Nancy Dawson, honey?
The wife who sells the barley, honey?
She won't get up to feed her swine,
And do ye ken Nancy Dawson, honey?

Form: Nursery Rhyme Comments

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace