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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 125 |
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Yet now their bones lie mouldering under weeds and
cypress boughs — And so, for all your pride, will yours, O Woman of
Three Cows! |
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Th' O'Carrols, also, famed when fame was only for
the boldest, Rest in forgotten sepulchres with Erin's best and
oldest; Yet who so great as they of yore in battle or carouse ? Just think of that, and hide your head, good Woman
of Three Cows. |
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Your neighbor's poor; and you, it seems, are big with
vain ideas, Because inagh ! you've got three cows—one more, I
see, than she has; That tongue of yours wags more at times than charity
allows; But if you're strong, be merciful—great Woman of
Three Cows.
AVRAN
Now, there you go; you still, of course, keep up your
scornful bearing, And I'm too poor to hinder you; but, by the cloak
I'm wearing, If I had but four cows myself, even though you were
my spouse, I'd thwack you well, to cure your pride, my Woman
of Three Cows. |
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