I sing the mighty power of broads
That give this country rise
That spread diplomacies of God
and build the fam'ly ties
Sharp stings the wisdom that surplants
The hen to rule the cock
The roost crows full of his parlance
And all her pillow talk

I sing the goodness of the goards
That fill the babes with milk
See gorgeous mothers in the wards
They look so swell in silk
Lord how the women are parfumed
Wher-e'er I turn my nose
When I survey the bride I've groomed
My pride for her just crows

Hell hath no wrath, nor fire below
To match the help-meet's own
Dark clouds arise, and tempests blow
By order from her throne
Ma-les that bother Nephrati are subject to her ire
There's not a Queen men can't appease
When God is reigning sire