The Lily of St Leonards —
O tell me who was she,
Who lived amongst our fathers
In days that used to be?
Now on the slopes of Milson,
Where cattle used to browse,
The Lily of St Leonards
Is just a public house.

Was it from some mud cabin
In Ireland that she came?
Or some sweet home in England,
Or a bonny Scottish " hame " ?
O did she sail an emigrant
From a Northern harbour's mouth?
Or was she born in Sydney —
A Lily of the South?

And was she wee and winsome,
Or was she tall and fair?
O was she crowned with golden
Or crowned with raven hair?
O say, was she a laughing
Cream-faced and blue-eyed girl?
With charming curves and dimples,
And many a golden curl?

O did she love not wisely
Or never love at all?
Or did she die heartbroken
Or did the poor girl fall?
O did she live a mother,
With children at her knee?
Or did she die all spotless
In girlhood's purity?

She was a Child of Nature,
If ever yet there was —
She was a child of Nature,
I tell you why — Because —
I'll tell you all a secret
That made your fathers grin —
The Lily of St Leonards
Was just an old Black Gin!