15. Tout Le Monde

 

Over the hill and over the dale,
And over the moon with the dish,
Where Devonshire brides read their daily mail,
And clotted-cream spoonsful are smallish –

For the price of a ham, she ran up the hill,
And rang up the cut of a diamond;
Says I – I’ll be Jack if you will be Jill,
So, we sat on the grass, tout le monde.

Here’s somebody coming! Here’s somebody coming!
Says I – ‘tis the world all around;
So, with all the masses all hymning and humming,
We lay on the grass, tout le monde.

Here’s somebody here! And here’s somebody found!
Says I – ring my bell – you, young fairy;
So, she stuck out her tongue, and lay plump and round,
As sweet as the Queen of the Dairy.

O who would not hie over the moon,
O who would not ring-up their plastic,
O who would not run away with the spoon,
To marry the fiddle, fantastic –