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HIBERNIAN SONGSTER. |
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SEND BACK MY BARNEY TO ME.
He is gone, and I'm now sad and lonely,
He has left me to cross the wide sea, But I know that he thinks of me onljn
And will soon be returning to me. His eyes they were filled with devotion.
As my husband he said he'd soon be., Then blow gently, ye winds of the ocean,
And send back my Barney to me. If at night, as I rest on my pillow,
The wind heaves a moan and a sigh, I think of each angry billow.
And watch every cloud o'er the sky, My bosom It fills with emotion,
As I pray for one over the sea. Then blow gently, ye winds of the ocean,
And send back my Barney to me. He has left me his fortune to better,
I know that he went for my sake. Soon I'll be receiving a letter,
If not, sure my poor heart will break; To say that he'll soon be returning
To his dear native Ireland and me. Then blow gently, ye winds of the ocean,
And send back my Barney to me. |
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MANTLE SO GREEN.
As I went walking, one evening in June, To view the fair fields and meadows so green, I spied a young damsel, she appeared like a queen With her costly fine robes, and her mantle so green! I stood in amaze—I was struck with surprise— I thought her an angel that fell from the skies— Her eyes like the diamond, her cheeks like the rose, She is one of the fairest that nature composed. Said I: Pretty fair maid, if you come with me, We will join in wedlock, and married we'll be; I'll dress you in rich attire, and you'll appear like a queen. With your costly fine robes and j'our mantle so green! She answered me: Young man, you must be refused, For I'll wed with no man, you must me excuse; The green hills I'll wander, to shun all men's view, For the lad that I love lies in famed Waterloo. Since you're not married, tell me your love's name; I have been in battle, I might have known the same. Draw near to my garment, and there you will see His name embroidered on' my mantle so green! On the raising of her mantle, it's there I behold His name and his surname, in letters of gold!— Young William O'Reilly appeared In my view; He was my chief comrade in famed Waterloo. ' We fought so victorious, where bullets did fly. And In the field of Norvon. your true love does lie. We fought for three days to the fourth afteruoon; He received his death summons on the 18th of June. As he was a dying I heard his last cry— Were you here, lovely Nancy, content I would die. Peace is proclaimed, and the truth I'll declare-Here Is your love's token, the ring that I wear. I stood in amazement, the paler she grew— She flew from my arms with her heart full of woe. To the green hills I'll wander for the lass that I love! Rise up, lovely Nancy, your grief I'll remove. |
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