“What nonsense you talk!” cried the youth in a pet;
For by the Lord Harry I swear,
Nor cheeks red as cherries, nor eyes black as jet,
Nor moist lips, nor of teeth the most beautiful set,
Shall make me untrue to my fair.
“If ever by money or love led aside,
I forget my sweet Peggy the gay,
With the power of a justice’s warrant supplied,
May a constable come as I sit by my bride,
And bear me to prison away!”