You’re looking as fresh as the morn,
You’re looking as bright as the day ;
But while on your charms I’m dilating
You’re stealing my poor heart away.
But keep it and welcome, mavourneen,
It’s loss I’m not going to mourn;
Yet one heart’s enough for a body,
So, pray give me yours in return;
O, pray, give me yours in return.
I’ve built me a neat little cot, darling,
I’ve pigs and potatoes in store;
I’ve twenty good pounds in the bank, love,
And may be a pound or two more.
It’s all very well to have riches,
But I’m such a covetous elf,
I can’t help sighing for something,
And darling that something’s yourself;
And that something, you know, is
You’re smiling, and that’s a good sign darling,
Say “yes,” and you’ll never repent ;
Or, if you would rather be silent
Your silence I’ll take for consent.
That good-natured dimple’s a tell-tale,
Now all that I have is your own ;
This week you’ll be Kitty Tyrell,
Next week you’ll be Mistress Malone;
You’ll be my own Mistress Malone.