This page has been validated.
6
With merry songs and jocund tales,
I've pass'd some pleasant hours
Tho' wandering thus, I ne'er could find
A girl like blithesome Sally
Who picks and culls, and cries aloud,
"Sweet lilies of the valley."
From whistling o'er the harrowed turf,
From nestling of each tree,
I chose a soldier's life to wed,
So social, gay, and free;
Yet tho' the lasses love me well,
And often try to rally,
None pleases me like her who cries,
"Sweet lilies of the valley."
I'm now return'd, of late discharged,
And free from warlike toil;
From fighting in my country's cause,
To plough my native soil ;
I care not which, with either pleased,
So possess my Sally,
That little merry symph who cries,
"Sweet lilies of the valley."
