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42 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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denis a. McCarthy
{Living)
AH, SWEET IS TIPPERARY
AH, sweet is Tipperary in the spring-time of the year, When the hawthorn's whiter than the snow, When the feathered folk assemble and the air is all a-tremble With their singing and their winging to and fro. When queenly Slievenamon puts her verdant vesture on And smiles to hear the news the breezes bring; When the sun begins to glance on the rivulets that dance — Ah, sweet is Tipperary in the spring!
Ah, sweet is Tipperary in the spring-time of the year,
When the mists are rising from the lea, When the golden vale is smiling with a beauty all beguiling
And the Sair goes crooning to the sea; When the shadows and the showers only multiply the flowers
That the lavish hand of May will fling; When in unfrequented ways, fairy music softly plays —
Ah ! sweet is Tipperary in the spring ! |
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