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She sat beside Tom in the morning.
And O but I was e’en right vext!
And at they pass’d thro’ the green meadows,
I said It’s a very wet day;
might have said more but how could I,
For thinking on sweet Sally Gray.
I went down to Tom in the lonning,
To hear all the cracks and the jokes,
And there was a man telling fortunes,
And I must be like other folk:
With chalk, and a pair of old bellows,
Two letters he rote in my way,
S stands for Sally all the world over
And nothing but G stands for Gray.
You talk of your Carlisle lasses,
With ribbands and targets of lace,
ſcuh a' sae pale looking creatures,
There’s ne’er a bit red in their face:
But Sally's skin’s like alabster,
Her cheeks like the roses in May !
O man! I could stand here for ever,
And talk about sweet Sally Gray.
Was I some rich Duke or great Lord,
Or some Parliament man of renown,
I would hire a coach and six horses,
To carry my Sally to town.
I would lure a coach and six horses,
And make them keep out of the way;
I would jump on behind like a footman,
All for my sweet Sally Gray.
