Pettifer / Chorus: When I marry [he marries] Amelia
Won’t we have the dome
Newly decorated
And electroplated?
You may bet! The place will be just like home,
When I marry [he marries] Amelia.

Pettifer: We’ll have the usual little lunch
Of about a thousand covers,
With turtles floating in Roman punch,
And a lot of eggs of plovers.
A case of Pommery ’seventy-four,
For whoever cares to take it,
And if Pommery says he’s got no more,
Well, I guess he’ll have to make it!
Chorus: When he marries Amelia.

Pettifer / Chorus: When I marry [he marries] Amelia
Won’t there be a feed?
Prawns in Aspic jelly,
Crême de Vermicelli,
You may bet! It will be a time indeed,
When I marry [he marries] Amelia.

Pettifer: The wedding presents will come in stacks,
They’ll be all of precious metals!
Ten golden hat and umbrella racks,
And a hundred diamond kettles!
I’ll send each person of note a card
To inspect the wealth I’m showing,
And hire detectives from Scotland Yard
Who will search the guests when going.
Chorus: When he marries Amelia.

Pettifer / Chorus: When I marry [he marries] Amelia
Won’t there be a show?
Clocks with ruby faces,
Emerald dressing cases!
You may bet! The jewellers’ stocks are low
When I marry [he marries] Amelia.

Pettifer: And when we go on our wedding trip
We shall cause a perfect panic,
For I’ll build ten times as big a ship
As the liner Oceanic!
No choppy weather my bride need fear,
When we both are crossing over.
The bow will be along Calais pier
As the stern is leaving Dover.
Chorus: When he marries Amelia.

Pettifer / Chorus: When I marry [he marries] Amelia
Won’t we [they] have a yacht!
Steaming quarter power
Fifty knots an hour.
You may bet! It will be a lively lot
When I marry [he marries] Amelia.

Adrian Ross (1859-1933)

Cora / Bridesmaids: Keep off the grass,
Keep off the grass,
Conduct like this I won’t pardon.
Play at your ease,
But if you please,
Keep off the grass in the garden!

Cora: Now it’s very much the same
When boys grow up;
But they play their racing game
For Plate or Cup.
On the turf they love to meet,
And bet so high,
Till the ‘certainty’ gets beat,
And then goodbye!
Hi! little boys, Hi! little boys, Hi!
Take care now,

Cora / Bridesmaids: Keep off the grass,
Keep off the grass,
Plunging your pocket won’t harden;
Bet when your cool,
But, as a rule,
Keep off the grass in the garden!

Cora: In the merry month of May
When coos the dove,
Young men’s fancy, so they say,
Will turn to love,
But to flirt may cost you dear,
So I’ve been taught;
For she sheds an artful tear,
And then you’re caught!
Hi! little boys, Hi! little boys, Hi!
Take care now,

Cora / Bridesmaids: Keep off the grass,
Keep off the grass,
Quickly your heart you must harden.
If she should sigh,
Don’t catch her eye,
Keep off the grass in the garden!

Lionel Monckton (1861-1924)