IN our hills the girls are plenty: Starry night is in their eyes. Live with them -- the choice may tempt ye: Freedom's still the better prize. Oh be not so rash, my lad! Harkee, do not wed! Better keep your cash, my lad, And buy a horse instead! He that has the mind to marry Takes the worser part, say I. Off to fight the Russ? "No hurry!" Why? Because the wife will cry! Oh be not so rash, my lad! Harkee, do not wed! Better keep your cash, my lad, And buy a horse instead! An honest horse, he never changes; He will go through flood and flame; Like a wind the steppe he ranges; Far and near with him's the same. Oh be not so rash, my lad! Harkee, do not wed! Better keep your cash, my lad, And buy a horse instead! |