When Lady Betty walks abroad,
By all who see her she's adored,
    At Vauxhall in the morning;
The very stones are proud to bear
A burden that's so light and fair,
    At Vauxhall in the morning.
Buy none do love her more than I,
When her sweet presence wanders by,
The sun breaks through the leaden sky
    At Vauxhall in the morning!

There are roses fair at Chelsea, there are daffies down at Kew,
And the primrose many a Richmond lane's adorning,
    But the flower I hold most sweet,
    Is the blossom that I meet
Down Vauxhall way upon a summer morning!

When Lady Betty passes by,
I strive to catch her bright blue eye,
    At Vauxhall in the morning;
And when I think she smiles at me
In Paradise I seem to be,
    Not Vauxhall way that morning!
Oh may life's skies on her ne'er frown,
Her days be glad, of fair renown,
Without her, sad were London Town
    At Vauxhall in the morning!

There are roses fair at Chelsea, etc.