O where is our dainty, our darling --
The daintiest darling of all;
O where is the voice on the stairway,
O where is the voice in the hall?
The little short steps on the entry,
The silvery laugh in the hall?
O where is our dainty, our darling --
The daintiest darling of all?

Little Maud, little Maud,
Oh the daintiest darling of all.

The peaches are ripe in the garden,
The apricots ready to fall;
The blue grapes are dripping their honey,
In sunshine upon the white wall.
Oh! where are the lips full and melting,
That look'd up so pouting and red,
When we dangled the sun-purpl'd beaches
Of Isabella over her head?
Oh Maud! little Maud? say, where are you?
(She never replies to our call;)
Oh where is our dainty, our darling,
The daintiest darling of all?