Source: Australian Melodist Songster
THE CALICO PRINTER'S CLERK.
(or, She was very fond of dancing.)
In Manchester, that city
Of cotton, twist, and twills,
Lived the subject of my ditty,
And the cause of all my ills;
She was handsome, young, and twenty,
Her eyes were azure blue,
Admirers she had plenty,
And her name was Dorothy Drew.
She was very fond of dancing,
But allow me to remark,
That one fine day she danced away,
With a Calico Printer's Clerk.
At a private ball I met her,
In eighteen-sixty-three,
I never can forget her,
Tho' she was unkind to me;
I was dressed in the pink of fashion,
My lavender gloves were new,
I danced the Valse Circassian,
With charming Dorothy Drew.
She was, etc.
We Shottisch'd and we Polka'd,
To the strains the band did play,
We Valsed and we Mazurka'd,
Till she Valsed my heart away;
I whisper'd in this manner,
As round the room we flew—
Doing Varsovienna—
" I love you, Dorothy Drew."
She was, etc.
For months and months attention
Unto her I did pay,
Till with her condescension,
She led me quite astray;
The money I expended,
I'm ashamed to tell to you,
I'll inform you how it ended,
With myself and Dorothy Drew.
She was, etc.
I received an intimation
She a visit meant to pay,
Unto a near relation,
Who lived some miles away:
In a month she'd be returning,
I must take a short adieu,
But her love for me was burning,
Deceitful Dorothy Drew.
At nine o'clock next morning,
To breakfast I sat down,
The smile my face adorning,
Was soon changed to a frown;
For in a morning paper,
A paragraph met my view,
That Jones, a Calico Printer's Clerk,
Had married Miss Dorothy Drew
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