The smiles on her face gave additional charm,
And caused you to call her a fairy.
Now a spruce young clerk was out for a ride,
And happened to come across Mary;
Said he to himself, “I will make her my bride,
And make her keep me with her dairy.”
But altho’ she was rustic, and simple as well,
As proud as a queen was our Mary;
Tho’ her bonny blue eyes of mischief could tell,
The sequel will show she was wary.