Oh say have you met with my Dolly 
Astray through yon dingle of holly? 
  On Snowdon's green steep 
  She grazes her sheep 
Around it I dally for Dolly. 

Her looks are gay daffy-down-dillies 
Her cheeks clustered roses and lilies 
  No lark's dulcet lay 
  At dawning of day
Delights like that dear laugh of Dolly's. 

Expecting a kiss from my Dolly, 
I found her lost lamb, like a collie,
  But the kiss when I sought 
  A cuffing I caught,
No damsel deals with me like Dolly. 

Yet though her tongue scourge like the holly, 
Disdain though her violet eyes volley;
  Though my bosom may bleed 
  Indeed and indeed, 
My days would be dull without Dolly. 

Three wishes I wish for my Dolly,
Herself to learn love's melancholy,
  Her lashes to lower 
  My fond looks before, 
And declare; "until death I'm your Dolly."