The father's name ye ne'er shall be told
⁠Of my darling unborn life;
"Shame, shame," ye cry, "on the strumpet bold!"
⁠Yet I am an honest wife.

To whom I'm wedded, ye ne'er shall be told,
⁠Yet he's both loving and fair;
He wears on his neck a chain of gold,
⁠And a hat of straw doth he wear.

If scorn 'tis vain to seek to repel,
⁠On me let the scorn be thrown.
I know him well, and he knows me well,
⁠And to God, too, all is known.

Sir Parson and Sir Bailiff, again,
⁠I pray you, leave me in peace!
My child it is, my child 'twill remain,
⁠So let your questionings cease!