All Two Hundred Sixty-Three

(A bluegrass lament)

How I pine for my girl Maud,
For my love that used to be.
She was kind but she was broad,
Weighed two hundred sixty-three.
But she looked to me right fine,
She was plump --- that I could see,
And I said she must be mine,
All two hundred sixty-three.

But her father wouldn't let her,
Said that Maud was not for me;
So I planned by night to get her,
To elope and marry me.
To escape I really had her
Out her window, almost free ---
But she crashed right through my ladder,
All two hundred sixty-three.

She fell through the old porch awning,
Woke her father; out he came,
Said "young man, i give you warning:
Go away, forget her name!"
Though we're parted I still miss her,
Long to hold her on my knee.
How I wish I just could kiss her,
All two hundred sixty-three.


Return to the List of Poems