"Ruddigore, or The Witch's Curse" libretto [.]

[fiefoe]

It says you mustn't hint, in print! {also noted here}

But she proved to be a Frigate and she up with her ports,
            And fires with a thirty-two!
                 It come uncommon near,
                 But we answered with a cheer,
            Which paralysed the Parley-voo,

Though clever as clever can be
            A Crichton{?} of early romance
                You must stir it and stump it,
                And blow your own trumpet,
            Or, trust me, you haven't a chance!

By the Port Admiral, but she's a tight little craft!

In sailing o'er life's ocean wide
             No doubt the heart should be your guide;
             But it is awkward when you find
             A heart that does not know its mind!

Every day will bring some joy
            That can never, never cloy!

My ways were strange
            Beyond all range

Ah, you've no idea what a poor opinion I have of myself, and how little I deserve it.

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