In the blooming valley, ah, down by the wood,
There's a cottage with roses and vines covered o'er;
And there dwelleth a fairy in that loved abode,
Bonny Mae, the sweet maiden who sighs by the door.
Bonny Mae, Bonny Mae,
Wherever I roam and whatever my lot;
Sweet hope in my bosom to thee turns, for aye,
Bonny Mae, the fairy, and little low cot.
As I go in the morning to call home the kine,
In the garden I see her a culling sweet flowers,
As I come, I oft linger 'neath low jessamine,
And thus fly with the fairy the gay rosy hours.-Chorus.
Oh, the blithe little maiden with lips of the rose,
With a kind beating bosom, and blue beaming eyes;
Without her this earth were a desert of woe's,
But 'tis with her a garden, a bright paradise.-Chorus.