I. On The Coast Of Coromandel Where The Early Pumpkins Blow, In The Middle Of The Woods Lived The Yonghy-Bonghy-B'. Two Old Chairs, And Half A Candle, One Old Jug Without A Handle, - These Were All His Worldly Goods: In The Middle Of The Woods, These Were All The Worldly Goods Of The Yonghy-Bonghy-B', Of The Yonghy-Bonghy B'. Ii. Once, Among The Bong-Trees Walking Where The Early Pumpkins Blow, To A Little Heap Of Stones Came The Yonghy-Bonghy-B'. There He Heard A Lady Talking, To Some Milk-White Hens Of Dorking, - "'Tis The Lady Jingly Jones! On That Little Heap Of Stones Sits The Lady Jingly Jones!" Said The Yonghy-Bonghy-B', Said The Yonghy-Bonghy-B'. Iii. "Lady Jingly! Lady Jingly! Sitting Where The Pumpkins Blow, Will You Come And Be My Wife?" Said The Yonghy-Bonghy-B'. "I Am Tired Of Living Singly - On This Coast So Wild And Shingly, - I'm A-Weary Of My Life; If You'll Come And Be My Wife, Quite Serene Would Be My Life!" Said The Yonghy-Bonghy-B', Said The Yonghy-Bonghy-B'. Iv. "On This Coast Of Coromandel Shrimps And Watercresses Grow, Prawns Are Plentiful And Cheap," Said The Yonghy-Bonghy-B'. "You Shall Have My Chairs And Candle, And My Jug Without A Handle! Gaze Upon The Rolling Deep (Fish Is Plentiful And Cheap); As The Sea, My Love Is Deep!" Said The Yonghy-Bonghy-B', Said The Yonghy-Bonghy-B'. V. Lady Jingly Answered Sadly, And Her Tears Began To Flow, - "Your Proposal Comes Too Late, Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-B'! I Would Be Your Wife Most Gladly!" (Here She Twirled Her Fingers Madly,) "But In England I've A Mate! Yes! You've Asked Me Far Too Late, For In England I've A Mate, Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-B'! Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-B'! Vi. "Mr. Jones (His Name Is Handel, - Handel Jones, Esquire, & Co.) Dorking Fowls Delights To Send, Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-B'! Keep, Oh, Keep Your Chairs And Candle, And Your Jug Without A Handle, - I Can Merely Be Your Friend! Should My Jones More Dorkings Send, I Will Give You Three, My Friend! Mr. Yonghy-Bongy-B'! Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-B'! Vii. "Though You've Such A Tiny Body, And Your Head So Large Doth Grow, - Though Your Hat May Blow Away, Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-B'! Though You're Such A Hoddy Doddy, Yet I Wish That I Could Modi- Fy The Words I Needs Must Say! Will You Please To Go Away? That Is All I Have To Say, Mr. Yongby-Bonghy-B'! Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-B'!" Viii. Down The Slippery Slopes Of Myrtle, Where The Early Pumpkins Blow, To The Calm And Silent Sea Fled The Yonghy-Bonghy-B'. There, Beyond The Bay Of Gurtle, Lay A Large And Lively Turtle. "You're The Cove," He Said, "For Me; On Your Back Beyond The Sea, Turtle, You Shall Carry Me!" Said The Yonghy-Bonghy-B', Said The Yonghy-Bonghy-B'. Ix. Through The Silent-Roaring Ocean Did The Turtle Swiftly Go; Holding Fast Upon His Shell Rode The Yonghy-Bonghy-B'. With A Sad Primaeval Motion Towards The Sunset Isles Of Boshen Still The Turtle Bore Him Well. Holding Fast Upon His Shell, "Lady Jingly Jones, Farewell!" Sang The Yonghy-Bonghy-B', Sang The Yonghy-Bonghy-B'. X. From The Coast Of Coromandel Did That Lady Never Go; On That Heap Of Stones She Mourns For The Yonghy-Bonghy-B'. On That Coast Of Coromandel, In His Jug Without A Handle Still She Weeps, And Daily Moans; On That Little Heap Of Stones To Her Dorking Hens She Moans, For The Yonghy-Bonghy-B', For The Yonghy-Bonghy-B'.