The frolic was soon at its height,
The small drop went round never chary,
The girls would dazzle your sight,
But all I could think of was Mary.
The first jig, faith, out she’d to go,
The piper played “Haste to the Wedding,”
And while I set to heel and toe,
You’d think ’twas on eggs she was treading.
So bright was her smile and her glance,
So dainty the modest head bowed of her,