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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 211 |
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But Dermot, his mind on love bent,
In search of his sweetheart he went; Peeped in here and there, As he walked thro' the Fair,
And took a small taste in each tent, As he went.
Och! on Whiskey and Love he was bent.
And who should he spy in a jig, With a Meal-man so tall and so big,
But his own darling Kate
So gay and so neat; Faith, her partner he hit him a dig,
The pig, He beat the meal out of his wig !
Then Dermot, with conquest elate, Drew a stool near his beautiful Kate;
" Arrah ! Katty," says he,
" My own Cushlamachree, Sure the world for Beauty you beat,
Complete, So we'll just take a dance while we wait! " |
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The Piper, to keep him in tune, Struck up a gay lilt very soon,
Until an arch wag
Cut a hole in his bag, And at once put an end to the tune
Too soon. Oh ! the music flew up to the moon ! |
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