WHERE IS KATHLEEN?
Copyright, 1878, by Wm. E. Hounslow.
I'm sitting alone while the sunset is falling,
In purple and gold, on the far distant hill,
And the thrush so sweetly his love-note is calling,
From out the old willow that bends o'er the rill.
I see the old cottage, with woodbine half cover'd,
The one brightest spot ill that beautiful scene;
But where is the spirit that round it once hover'd,
So loving and gentle? oh, where is Kathleen?
Where is Kathleen, darling Kathleen?
She who was ever my heart's fondest queen!
Where is the sweetheart I loved in my childhood!
I hear but the echo, oh, where is Kathleen?
I turn from the spot with a heart full of sorrow,
To think of the path I must tread all alone;
For no matter how bright be the sun of to-morrow,
I'll sigh for the love-light that once o'er me shone.
Though far from the scenes by her presence once gladden'd,
I still shall remember sweet days that have been;
And the voice of my heart, tho' 'tis broken and saddend,
Will ever be calling, oh, where is Kathleen?-Chorus.