Oh! the mountain maid is the maid for me;
Her step is light and her heart is free,—
Light and free as the breeze that passes.
Oh! a rosy cheek and a rounded form,
And a pulse that's neither too cold nor warm,
Is the dowry they bring, these mountain lasses.
They have no jewels, they have no gold,
But health and truth, and a spirit bold,—
Bold and true as their rocky masses.
As Nature is kind, and pure, and free,
So children of Nature, so are ye,
Ye happy and merry mountain lasses.