Performed at Vauxhall.

Lyrics: Anon

Ye cheerful virgins, have you seen
My fair Myrtilla pass the green,
To rose or jasmine bower?
Where does she seek the woodbine shade?
For sure ye know the blooming maid,
Sweet as the May-born flower.

Her cheek is like the maiden rose,
Joined with the lily as it blows,
Where each in sweetness vie:
Like dewdrops glist'ring in the morn,
When Phoebus gilds the flow'ring thorn,
Health sparkles in her eye.

Her song is like the linnet's lay,
That warbles cheerful on the spray,
To hail the vernal beam.
Her heart is blither than her song,
Her passions gently move along,
Like the smooth gliding stream.