came from the Isle of Wight.
They drunk the Monday morning,
or stopped till Saturday night.
When Saturday night did come,
their boys, they wouldn't then go out.
These three drunken maidens,
Then up comes Bouncing Sally,
her cheeks as red as a flute
and give young Sally some room
And these four drunken maidens,
they pushed the jug about
There's a woodcock and pheasant,
there's partridge and hare
There's all sorts of dainties,
There's forty quads of beamy boys,
they'd barely drunk them out
These four drunken maidens,
But up comes the landlord,
It's a forty pound bill, me boys,
these girls were supposed to pay
That's ten pounds a piece, me boys,
but still they wouldn't go out
These four drunken maidens,
they pushed the jug about
Oh, where are your feathered hats,
your mantles rich and fine
They've all been swallowed up
And where are your maidenheads,
you maidens brisk and gay
We left them in the alehouse,
we drank them clean away.
