Near famous Covent Garden,
A dome there stands on high,
Where kings are represented,
And queens in metered eye,
The both and men of business,
To hear the wanton doxies print,
And see them dance and sing,
With a fa -la -la -la, la -la -la -la -la,
With a fa -la -la -la -la -la.
Here Phyllis is the darling,
She's brisk and gay and cunning,
Her mother was before her,
With a fa -la -la -la, la -la -la -la -la,
with a fa -la -la -la -la.
Young suitors she had many,
And daily she refused them,
A saint she would be thought,
and assembled all she could,
But jolly rakes all knew she was of
playhouse flesh and blood,
And her fa la la la, la la la la la,
Her mother, when encouraged
To keep thy hunches close.
This made her stand out stoutly,
still were mounted at her bum,
And her fa -la -la -la, la -la -la -la -la,
And her fa -la -la -la -la -la.
The knight and country squire
were shot with her disdain
The lawyer was outwitted,
The bluff tarpaulin sailor,
in vain, cried hard a port
She baffled all the shirks at sea
as the country town and court
With her fa -la -la -la, la -la -la -la,
and her fa -la -la -la -la
The god of love grown angry
that Phyllis seemed so shy
Resolved her pride to humble
and rout her pish and fie
He sent a slow -foot tailor
who knew well how to stitch
And in a little time had found
And her fa -la -la -la, la -la -la -la -la
And her fa -la -la -la -la -la
but is known without all doubt,
A little human figure has
And though some petty scandal
Her mother swears and does
avow her honor is intact,
And her fa -la -la -la, la -la -la -la -la,
And her fa -la -la -la -la. you
4.8
