In yonder snug cottage, beneath the cliff's side,
And close to the pebbles that limit the tide,
Were five little fellows, a couple's fond care,
Who'd barely enough, not a morsel to spare.
They sometimes were hatless when summer was hot
And shoeless when winter in snow wrapt their cot;
Yet up grew the boys that no hardship could break,
And one of the five is my lad of the lake.

That rivals were mine I had once to deplore,
And every new day made their number one more;
No maiden beheld him but glaz'd for a while,
Bewitch'd by his figure, entranc'd by his smile:
And what gave each motion additional grace,
My Hywel's good heart might be read on his face;
At church, at the playfield, the fair, or the wake,
Unmatch'd was my Hywel, the lad of the lake.

My father, o bless him! Few better, or such,
Yet loves his dear money a little too much,
Declar'd, if by fancy alone I was sway'd,
Nor his wealth, nor his blessing, my Hywel should aid!
I answer'd, my Hywel has vigour and health,
And these to the children of Nature are wealth;
Tho' my heart were a dozen, they'd all of them break,
If still he denied me the lad of the lake.

Now hear how my troubles and sorrows are past,
How my father himself grew a convert at last;
'Twas when his foot slip't as he enter'd the boat,
My Hywel uprais'd him as quick as a thought.
He ey'd him with kindness, and gave me a kiss,
And said, Kate, I should like to have grandsons like this;
Be happy, my girl, and the treasure now take,
Tho'poor, yet a prize is thy lad of the lake.