THE Quaker's wife got up to bake, Her children all about her; She gave them every one a cake, And there the miller found her. He chased her up, he chased her down, As fast as he could make her; And merrily danced the Quaker's wife, And merrily danced the Quaker. Sugar and spice and all things nice, And all things very good in it; And then the miller sat down to play A tune upon the spinet. Merrily danced the Quaker's wife, And merrily danced the Quaker, Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, Merrily danced the Quaker. |