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And there's no use at all in my going to bed,
For 'tis dhrames and not sleep that comes into my head,
And 'tis all about you,
The snow can't compare With your forehead so fair, And I rather would see just one blink
of your eye,
Than the prettiest star that shines out of the sky,
And by this and by that,
You're more distant by far than that same!
Och hone! weirasthru !
I'm alone in this world without you.
Och hone! but why should I spake
Paddy Blake, the schoolmaster, to put it in rhyme,
Tho' there's one BURKE, he
For apples were scarce, I suppose, long
But at this time o' day,
'Pon my conscience I'll say, Such cherries might tempt a man's father!
Och hone! weirasthru !
I'm alone in this wide world without
Och hone! by the man in the moon,
For you dance twice as high with that thief, Pat Magee,
As when you take share of a jig, dear, with me.
Tho' the piper I bate,
Would'nt play you your favorite tune
When you're at mass, My devotion you crass, For 'tis thinking of you, I am, Molly Carew. While you wear, on purpose, a bonnet so deep,
That I can't at your sweet purty face get a peep.
Oh, lave off that bonnet,
The loss of my wandering sowl! Och hone! weirasthru ! Och hone! like an owl, Day is night, dear to me, without you! Och hone! don't provoke me to do it; For there's girls by the score That loves me—and more,
And you'd look very quare if some morning you'd meet
My wedding all marching in pride down the street;
Troth, you'd open your eyes, And you'd die with surprise To think 'twasn't you was come to it.
And faith, Katty Naile,
And tho' you're fair and fresh as a morning in May,
While she's short and dark like a cold
Is over, I'll marry for spite,
My ghost will haunt you every night.
A PLACE in thy memory, dearest,
To pause and look back when thou hearest
The sound of my name.
Another may woo thee, nearer,
Remember me-not as a lover
As the young bride remembers the mother
She loves, though she never may see, As a sister remembers a brother, O, dearest! remember me.
Could I be thy true-lover, dearest,
But a cloud on my pathway is glooming,
Ne'er made thee to wither on mine
Remember me then-O, remember
That life will, though lonely, be sweet If its brightest enjoyment should be A smile and kind-look when we meet, And a place in thy memory.