And you who have been where the red rose blows
In many a Southern place,
Oh did you ever see a rose
Like those in my sweetheart’s face?
Here’s a cheer for the women with jet black curls,
Of Spain or of Portugal!
And seven for the Yankee and English girls,
The prettiest of them all!
“Wall now,” cried Jones, “I railly must admit,
Them Spanish songs of yourn hev taste and wit;