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390 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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If you won't relieve me, in truth you may b'lieve me, Bewildered in sorrow till death I must smart;
I'm at your election, so grant me protection, And feel for a creature that's tortured in woe.
One smile it will heal me, one frown it will kill me; Sweet, nice little Jenny from Ballinasloe ! "
" Sir, yonder's my lover; if he should discover
Or ever take notice you spoke unto me, He'd close your existence in spite of resistance;
Be pleased to withdraw, then, lest he might you see. You see, he's approaching ; then don't be encroaching,
He has his large dog and his gun there also. Although you're a stranger, I wish you from danger,"
Said nice little Jenny from Ballinasloe.
I bowed then genteelly, and thanked her quite freely ;
I bid her adieu, and took to the road; So great was my trouble my pace I did double;
My heart was oppressed and sank down with the load. Forever I'll mourn for beauteous Jane Curran,
And ramble about in affection and woe, And think on the hour I saw that sweet flower,
My dear little Jenny from Ballinasloe !
JOHNNY, I HARDLY KNEW YE
W
HILE going the road to sweet Athy, Hurroo ! hurroo i •
While going the road to sweet Athy, Hurroo ! hurroo ! While going the road to sweet Athy, |
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