In vain I attempt to describe the charms of mi favourite fair,
She's the darlin' of Mother Eve's tribe, but with her there is none to compare.
She's a pride of beauty so bright. Her image mi fancy enriches.
Oh mi charmers the village delight. She's the pride of the Lancashire Witches.
And hurrah for the Lancashire Witches
Who's smile every bosom enriches,
Oh dearly I prize those pretty blue eyes
Of the pride of the Lancashire Witches
You can talk of your dark eyes of Spain, but it's useless to talk as you do
To try to compare them in vain with the Lancashire ladies in blue.
Only view the dear heavenly belles and you're soon filled with love's sudden twitches,
That only could come from the spells, from the eyes of the Lancashire Witches.
And hurrah for the Lancashire Witches
Who's smile every bosom enriches,
Oh dearly I prize those pretty blue eyes
Of the pride of the Lancashire Witches
Oh the Lancashire Witches, believe me, are beautiful every one.
And mine or my fancy deceives me. She's t' prettiest under the sun.
If the wealth o' the Indies I swear were mine an' I wallowed in riches,
How dearly my fortune I'd share with the pride of the Lancashire Witches.
And hurrah for the Lancashire Witches
Who's smile every bosom enriches,
Oh dearly I prize those pretty blue eyes
Of the pride of the Lancashire Witches