Sweet Marie
Percy French
I've a little racin' mare called Sweet Marie,
And the temper of a bear has Sweet Marie.
But I've backed the mare to win,
And on her I've all my tin,
So we'll take a trial spin, Sweet Marie.
Hould your hoult, Sweet Marie,
If you bolt, Sweet Marie,
Sure, you'll never win the Farmers' Cup for me;
And if you don't pull it through,
Faith, I'm done, and so are you,
For I'll trade you off for glue, Sweet Marie.
Now, the colours that I chose for Sweet Marie
Were lavender and rose for Sweet Marie,
Och, but now, no thanks to you,
Sure I'm quite another hue,
For I'm onIy black and blue, Sweet Marie,
Hould your hoult, Sweet Marie,
If you bolt, Sweet Marie,
Sure, you'll never win the Farmers' Cup for me.
Every daisy in the dell
Ought to know me mighty well,
For on every one I fell, Sweet Marie.
Now we're started for the Cup, my Sweet Marie
Weight for age and owners up, my Sweet Marie
Owners up, just now I own,
But the way you're waltzing roun'
Sure, 'twill soon be owners down, Sweet Marie.
Hould your hould, Sweet Marie:
Pass the colt, SweetMarie.
Och, you've gone and lost the Farmers' Cup for me.
You're a stayer too, I fnd:
But you're not the proper kind
For you stay too far behind, Sweet Marie.