There was a little man
Who wooed a little maid
And he said, “Little maid, will you wed, wed, wed?
I have little more to say
So will you, aye or nay?
For the least said is soonest mend, ded, ded, ded.”
 
Then replied the little maid,
“Little sir, you’ve little said
To induce a little maid to wed, wed, wed.
You must say a little more
And produce a little ore
Ere I make a little print in your bed.”
 
Then the little man replied,
“If you’ll be my little bride
I will raise my love notes a little higher, higher, higher.
Though my offers are not meet
Yet my little heart is great
With the little God of Love all on fire, fire, fire.”
 
Then the little maid replied,
“Should I be your little bride,
Pray, what must we have for to eat, eat, eat?
Will the flames that you’re so rich in
Light a fire in the kitchen
Or the little God of Love turn the spit, spit, spit?”
 
Then the little man he sighed
And some say a little cried,
For his little heart was big with sorrow, sorrow, sorrow.
“As I am your little slave
If the little that I have
Be too little, little, little, we will borrow, borrow, borrow.“
 
Then the little man so gent
Made the little maid relent
And set her little heart a-thinking, king, king.
Though his offers were but small,
She took his little all
She could have but the cat and her skin, skin, skin.