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Sigh who will for golden treasure, Mine's a gem that gold surpasses, Fanny's smiles give wealth and pleasure, Gifts reserved for the Dublin lasses. O, the dear, delighting, etc.

COLLEEN BAWN.

"TWAS on a bright morning in summer I first heard his voice speakin' low, As he said to a colleen beside me, Who's that purty girl milking her cow?

Oh! many times afther ye met me,
An' vowed that I always should be
Your darlin' a cushla, alanna mavour-

neen,

A suilish machree.

I haven't the manners or graces

Of the girls in the world where yo

move,

I havn't their beautiful faces,
But oh I've a heart that can love;
If it plaise ye, I'll dress me in satin,
An' jewels I'il put on my brow,
But oh! don't be afther forgettin'
Your purty girl milking her cow.

ERIN MAVOURNEEN.

WHEN the pure sense of honor shall cease to inspire thee, And kind hospitality leaves thy gay shore;

When the nations that know thee no longer admire thee,

Then, Erin mavourneen, I'll love the

no more.

When the trumpet of fame shall cease to proclaim thee,

Of warriors the nurse, in the ages of yore,

When the muse and the record of genius disclaim thee,

Then, Erin mavourneen, I'll love thee

no more.

When thy brave sons no longer are generous and witty,

And cease to be loved by the fair they adore,

When thy daughters no longer ar virtuous and pretty,

Then, Erin mavourneen, I'll love thee

no more.

MY GRA GAL MACHREE.

O, BLOOMING and fair

Was the young nymph who stole

soul;

The love of my heart
And the peace of my
Two eyes, like the stars,
Shining bright o'er the sea,
And a heart warm with love
Has my Gra Gal Machree.

The long, curling hair

On her white bosom hung, And heart-stealing music

Fell sweet from her tongue, And the blush on her cheek Told of something to me, When first I belfeld her,

My Gra Gal Machree.

That ner dear heart was mine

Sure that rising blush told, And they say that my love

Will soon change and grow cold; But their words are all false, For I'll love only thee, Till death cools this heart, My Gra Gal Machree.

O, blooming and fair

Was the young nymph who stole

The love of my heart
And the peace of my soul 1;
Two eyes, like the stars,

Shining bright o'er the sea,
And a heart warm with love
Has my Gra Gal Machree.

WE MAY BE HAPPY YET.

O, SMILE as thou wert wont to smile, be fore the weight of care

Had crushed thy heart, and for a while left only sorrow there;

Some thoughts perchance 'twere best to quell, some impulse to forget, O'er which should mem'ry cease to dwell, we may be happy yet.

O, never name departed days, nor vows you whispered then,

Round which too sad a feeling plays to trust their tones again;

Regard their shadows round thee cast as if we ne'er had met,

And thus unmindful of the past, we may be happy yet.

THE TAIL IV ME COAT.

I LARNED me reading an' writing,
At Ballyragget where I wint to school,
'Twas there I first took to fighting,
With the school-master, Misther
O'Toole ;

He and I had many a scrimmage,
The divil a copy I wrote,
But not a gossoon in the village,

Dare thread on the tail iv me coat.

I an illegant hand was at courting,
For lessons I took in the art,
Till cupid, that blaggard, while sporting,
A big arrow sint smack through me
heart.

30

Miss O'Conner, I live straight forniest, her,

And tindher lines to her I wrote, Who dare say a black word against her, Why I'd thread on the tail iv their

coat.

A bog-trotter wan, Micky Mulvany,
He tried for to coax her away;
He had money and I hadn't any,
So a challenge I sent him wan day.

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