They call her handsome Mary, the Lily of the West.
I court’d her for many a day, her love I thought to gain,
Too soon, too soon she slighted me, which caused me grief and pain;
She robb’d me of my liberty—deprived me of my rest,
They call her handsome Mary, the Lily of the West.
One evening as I rambled down by yon shady grove,
I met a lord of high degree, conversing with my love;
He sang, he sang so merrily, while I was sore oppress’d,
He sang for handsome Mary, the Lily of the West.
I rushed upon my rival, a dagger in my hand,