Oho! My Boy! Oho!

Always for your weal and never for your woe,

Your little heart will gallop on the go,

And it will not give you rest

Within your manly breast,

Till you land yourself in toto at her toe.

Oho! My Boy! Oho!

If you travel in the South,

You will find a rosy mouth,

And a black eye, O so black!

And some strands of raven hair

Will purloin your heart just there,

And you'll never get the poor thing back.

Oho! My Boy! Oho! Etc.

If you travel in the East,

Your dear soul will have a feast

On a sweet eye, O so sweet!

And a most seductive curl

Will there give your heart a twirl

That will fling you at two queenly feet.

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