American Old Time Song Lyrics: 52 Baby Irene

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 52

BABY IRENE.
Copyright, 1896, by Mo. Pomaranc.
Words and Music by Mo. Pomaranc.

In a neat little cottage, surrounded by trees,
Sits a mother with a heart light and free,
While she thinks of the evil that might befall;
The child sits there on her knee,
Just then the door opened, the husband comes home,
A toy for the baby he always does bring;
When supper is over, he picks up the child,
For it pleases him When he can sing:

Refrain.
You are my Irene, ever so charming;
You are my darling, few like you are ever seen;
I love you dearly, always be near me,
There is no sweeter child than my baby Irene.

Now the years have gone by, and the child it has grown
To womanhood, gentle and true,
Yet she thinks of the time that is now drawing near,
When she d be a loving wife, too;
The clock on the mantle strikes the hour of eight,
And then there's a click at the old garden gate;
She knows it's her lover, and says you are late,
When softly he starts in to sing:

Refrain.
You are my Irene, ever so charming;
You are my darling, few like you are ever seen;
I love you dearly, always he near me,
There is no sweeter one than my own sweet Irene.