With laughing looks I once arose,
How dark soe'er the day;
Now sadly every sunburst shows,
For joy has fled away, Jenny;
For joy has fled away!

Nor flocks nor herds nor store of gold,
Nor broad estate have I;
If beauty must be bought and sold,
Alas! I cannot buy, Jenny;
Alas! I cannot buy.

Yet I'll be rich, if you'll be kind,
And once again agree
To bear me still in loving mind
Till I've a home for thee, Jenny;
A home till death for thee.