‘Twas o so many years ago back in the days of yore
When the princess won my heart
And all I had to give her
Was a lovely raspberry tart.
She’d had her fill of onion rings,
Of lamb and mint in pies.
I knew that I could win her o’er
Once this I’d recognize.
There only was one way, you see
To win her heart and soul
And this of course to give her of
The one thing she’d extol.
O not all tarts are raspberry,
As not all cakes are quince,
As not all men are handsome,
Or as charming as a prince.
I hope young men will be forewarned
And take my sage advice.
It doesn’t cost a thing, kind sirs,
Nor pittance, nor a trice.