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And many maidens blooming fair,
I in my search have seen:
But none so lovely could I find,
In village, town, or dale,
So gentle, charming, and so kind
As Lucy of the Vale.
Beneath an aged elm-tree’s shade,
Beside a lonely wood,
In thatch’d roof cot I found this maid,
So beautiful and good;
She sweetly blush’d with virgin shame
Wher first I told my tale,
While ev’ry sigh increas’d my flame
For Lucy of the Vale
Her cheeks outvie the blushing rose,
Her eye all mild to view:
Her mind, which like the lily blows,
Is pure as morning dew,
Not all the gayest flowers that are
In garden mead, or dale
Can with this beauteous maid compare,
Sweet Lucy of the Vale.
