THERE'S not a may in Ellerton
By half so sweet to look upon―
In all the country round there's none
So sweet as Dora Dee.

The blood-red rose to passer by,
May show with pride its precious dye;
There's not a bloom can charm the eye
Like little Dora Dee.

The linnet's self its head may rear,
And pipe a note wild, sweet, and clear;
There's not a bird can charm the ear
Like little Dora Dee.

The lady in yon castle grand,
May knees of noble lords command;
There's not a lady in the land
The peer of Dora Dee.