American Old Time Song Lyrics: 24 The Loss Of His Dear

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 24

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As I walked out one evening I chanced to hear
A young man lamenting the loss of his dear;
A young man lamenting, and this was his cry
I am sorely tormented, for love I shall die.

My love she doth slight me because I am poor,
I'll work to maintain her, what can I do more?
The king could but love her, and I'll do the same,
I'll own her my mistress, my own darling flame.

When I sit beside her she is angry with me,
And when I talk to her she says I'm too free,
When I say nothing she rakes me again,
And surely says to me, go back as you came.

I'll wind up my ditty, I'll finish my song,
Here's a health to those proud girls to whom wealth belong;
I'll hug them and kiss them be they ever so mean,
'Tis an old saying and a true one, a new broom sweeps clean.
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