Where is the lip in all the land
Worthy to kiss my darling's hand?
Not a bird that sings, a flower that blows,
Is half so sweet as my queen, my rose.
My beautiful Meg, my queen, my rose.

My beautiful Meg.

With the echo of words pronounced all wrong,
With the ringing notes of a half-sung song
Scarcely dead, she has fallen asleep,
While I all alone my fond watch keep
Over my beauty, my beautiful Meg,

With the peaceful joy of a glad tale told,
With the dreamy bliss of a joy that roll'd
Over my life in the days gone by
She, in my heart like a star of gold,
Shines in the gloom of a stormy sky,

My beautiful Meg

Though in the days to come
I may gain the gold that
Comes with an artist's fame,
And all the pride of a deathless name,
I'll lay them all at thy tiny feet
Thou shalt have them all, my baby, my sweet,

My beautiful Meg

The crystal tear on thy nut-brown cheek,
Each lisping word thy sweet lips speak,
Each bonnie curl of thy glossy hair
To me are treasures beyond compare,

My beautiful Meg