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No. 9 - Opening Chorus - "Tarentella" - "Tra la la la la la la la..."
No. 10 - Song - Clive and Chorus
| Clive: | I met a Miss Mary Maclean on the boat, Alone and in charge of the skipper; The ladies declared her unworthy of note The sailors pronounced her a clipper. It wasn't the beauty that bloomed on her cheek, For some might consider her plain, But every man in the course of a week Was spoons on Miss Mary Maclean. Mary, Mary, quite contrary, Wouldn't say "Yes" or "No;" Until she said which one she'd wed They followed her all in a row. |
| with Chorus: | Mary, Mary, quite contrary, How does your garden grow? With splendid swells engaged to Belles And pretty girls all in a row. |
| Clive: | Her first was a curate, seraphic but slow, The other men called him a softy; His views I believe were exceedingly "low," His aims were remarkably lofty. He wanted Miss Mary to wed him and come To live in a Bermondsey Lane, Instructing the sinners that dwelt in the slum, Which frightened Miss Mary Maclean. Mary, Mary, quite contrary, Sent him away with speed; She liked the sinners that gave you dinners And not the poor sinners you feed. |
| with Chorus: | Mary, Mary, quite contrary, How does your garden grow? With pious acts and little tracts For Charity girls in a row. |
| Clive: | The next was the Doctor we kept on the ship To dose us with brandy when ailing; He hung round her chair for the whole of the trip, Or helped her to cling to the railing; He felt for her pulse and he gazed in her eye Because, as I heard him explain, Her temperature was uncommonly high, A warm one was Mary Maclean! Mary, Mary, quite contrary, Answered him on the spot: "When I am ill perhaps I will, But now I am well I will not!" |
| with Chorus: | Mary, Mary, quite contrary, How does your garden grow? With tonic pills to cure the ills Of passengers all in a row. With tonic pills to cure the ills Of passengers all in a row. |
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Page modified 18 January 2017