The eye that's sparkling black I love,
Ay, more than that which blue is;
And thine are like two stars above,
And sloe black—Nancy Lewis.
Alas! alas! their power I feel;
My bosom pierced right through is:
In pity, then, my bosom heal,
My charming Nancy Lewis.
Oh! bless me with thy heaven of charms,
And take a heart that true is,