7
The sweet girls of Britain can monarchs subdue;
And lovely in person and mind;
Yet the fairest of lasses that all those surpasses,
Is Jenny the Maid of the Moor.
Sweet Jenny, &c.
And lovely in person and mind;
Yet the fairest of lasses that all those surpasses,
Is Jenny the Maid of the Moor.
Sweet Jenny, &c.
The lasses of Scotland are fam'd far and near,
The maidens of Erin breathe love,
The sweet girls of Britain to Britons are dear,
And soft as the down on the dove.
Still the fairest of lasses that all those surpasses,
Is Jenny the Maid of the Moor.
Sweet Jenny, &c.
The maidens of Erin breathe love,
The sweet girls of Britain to Britons are dear,
And soft as the down on the dove.
Still the fairest of lasses that all those surpasses,
Is Jenny the Maid of the Moor.
Sweet Jenny, &c.
OH! LADY FAIR.
Oh, Lady fair, where art thou roaming,
The sun is sunk, the night is coming,
Stranger, I go o'er moor and mountain,
To tell my beads at Agnes' fountain.
The sun is sunk, the night is coming,
Stranger, I go o'er moor and mountain,
To tell my beads at Agnes' fountain.
And who is the man with his white locks flowing ?
Oh, Lady fair, where is lie going?
A wand'ring pilgrim, weak I falter,
To tell my beads at Agnes' altar.
Oh, Lady fair, where is lie going?
A wand'ring pilgrim, weak I falter,
To tell my beads at Agnes' altar.
Chill falls the rain, night winds are blowing,
Dreary and dark is the way we are going,
Fair Lady wait till morning blushes,
I'll strew for thee a bed of rushes.
Dreary and dark is the way we are going,
Fair Lady wait till morning blushes,
I'll strew for thee a bed of rushes.
