As I roved out on a summer's morning a-speculating most curiously To my surprise, I there espied a charming fair maid approaching me I stood awhile in deep meditation contemplating what I should do 'Til at length recruiting all my sensations I thus accosted the Cailin Rua
Are you Aurora or the goddess Flora, Artemidora or Venus bright? Or Helen, fair beyond compare, that Paris stole from the Grecian sight? Oh fairest maiden, you have enslaved me, I'm captivated in Cupid's clew Your golden sayings are infatuations that have enslaved me, a Cailin Rua
Kind sir, be easy and do not tease me with your false praises so jestingly Your dissimulation and invocation are vaunting praises alluring me I am not Aurora or the goddess Flora, I'm a rural maid to all men's view Who's here condoling my situation, my appelation the Cailin Rua
Oh were I Hector, that noble victor, who died a victim to Grecian skill Or were I Paris whose deeds are various, an arbitrator on Ida's Hill I'd rage through Asia like Abyssinia Pennsylvania seeking you The burning raygions like sage Orpheus to see your face, my sweet Cailin Rua 1