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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!

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