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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 419
She is my dear—oh ! she my dear, Who cares not whether I be here, Who would not weep when I am dead, Who makes me shed the silent tear. |
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Hard my case—oh ! hard my case. How have I lived so long a space ? She does not trust me any more, But I adore her silent face. |
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She is my choice—oh ! she my choice, Who never made me to rejoice, Who caused my heart to ache so oft, Who put no softness in her voice.
Great my grief—oh ! great my grief, Neglected, scorned beyond belief, By her who looks at me askance, By her who grants me no relief.
She's my desire—oh ! my desire, More glorious than the bright sun's fire; Who were than wind-blown ice more cold, Had I the boldness to sit by her. |
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She it is who stole my heart, But left a void and aching smart; And if she soften not her eye, Then life and I shall shortly part. |
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