Come all ye young people and listen to me,
I'm going to tell you my sad destiny
I'm a man by experience whose favors is won;
Love has been the ruin of many a man

If you go to get married, don't hasten it on,
And don't you get married till you're full twenty-one;
And don't you get married till you find your love set,
Then marry some good girl your love won't forget

Come all you young gentlemen who want to be smart,
Don't place your affections on a smiling sweetheart
She's dancing before you some favours to gain,
Then turns her back on you with scorn and disdain

When a man's married he ain't his own man,
He must rove through the country and live as he can
He's lost that sweet apparel, the flowers of life,
For selling his freedom to buy him a wife

But when a man's single he can live at his ease,
He can rove through the country and do as he please ;
He can rove through the country and live at his will,
Kiss Polly, kiss Betsy, and he is the same stiil

Just pour out another bowl, boys, we'll drink bumpers round
We'll drink to the poorest, if they're to be found;
We'll drink to the single with the greatest success
Likewise to the married and wish them no less

From English Folk Songs in the Southern Appalachians, Sharp
Collected from Mary Sands, NC, 1916
@marriage @courtship
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