The girl I love is comely, straight, and tall,
Down her white neck her auburn tresses fall;
Her dress is neat, her carriage light and free,
Here's a health to that charming maid, whoe'er she be!
The rose's blush but fades beside her cheek,
Her eyes are blue, her forehead pale and meek;
Her lips like cherries on a summer tree,
Here's a health to that charming maid, whoe'er she be!
When I go to the field no youth can lighter bound,
And I freely pay when the cheerful jug goes round;
The barrel is full, but its heart we soon shall see,
Here's a health to that charming maid, whoe'er she be!
Had I the wealth that props the Saxon's reign,
Or the diamond crown that decks the King of Spain;
I'd yield them all if she kindly smiled on me,
Here's a health to the maid I love, whoe'er she be!
Five pounds of gold for each lock of her hair I'd pay,
And five times five for my love one hour each day;
Her voice is more sweet than the thrush on its owngreen tree,
Then, my dear, may I drink a fond deep health to thee!