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HIBERNIAN SONGSTER. |
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CAPTAIN MEGAN.
O! the face of brave Captain Megan Was as broad as a big frying-pan;
Just over his snout,
One eye was snuff'd out, But tne other burn'd bright upon Nan—sweat Nan! O, it bother'd the heart of poor Nan. ' "I'm no beauty," sighed Captain Megan, But 'tis manners alone make the man;
And though my long nose
Should hang o'er my toes, Would you like me the worse'for it, Nan—sweet Nan? Would you like me the worse for it, Nan? Nan leer'd upon Captain Megan; Her skin was the color of tan;
But the Captain, she saw,
Had a Jenescalquoi; So the Captain he conquer'd sweet Nan—sweet Nan! O! long life to brave Captain Megan. |
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AILEEN AROON.
How sweet and pleasing the birds sing in June, How sweet and pleasing the birds sing in June,
Gay prospects abounding,
All nature surrounding, And all to delight my sweet Aileen Aroon. The roses and lilies in May and June, The roses and lilies In May and June,
So charming and blooming,
Around all perfuming, And not half so sweet as my Aileen Aroon. When sultry bright Phoebus makes fervid the noon-, When sultry bright Phoebus makes fervid the noon,
In the grove or the bower,
I'll pass the long hour, And sing in the praise of sweet Aileen Aroon. |
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GREEN BUSHES.
As I was a walking one morning in May,
To hear the birds whistle, and see lambkins play,
I espied a young damsel, so sweetly sang she,
Down by the green bushes, where she chano'd to meet me.
"Oh! why are you loitering here, pretty maid?"
"I'm waiting for my true love," softly she said;
"Shall I he your true love, and will you agree
To leave your own true love, and follow with me?
"I'll give you fine bavers, and fine silken gowns;
I'll give you smart petticoats flounced to the ground,
I'll buy you fine jewels, and live but for thee,
If you'll leave your true love, and follow with me."
"I want none of your bavers, nor fine silks nor hose.
For I'm not so poor as to marry for clothes;
But If you'll be constant and true unto me
I'll leave my own true love, and marry with thee.
"Come, let us be going, kind sir, if you please:
Oh! let us be going from under these trees;
For yonder is coming my true love, you see,
Down by the green bushes, where he thinks to meet me."
And when he came there, and found she was gone,
He looked very sheepish, and cried, quite forlorn,
"She's gone with another, and forsaken me,
And left the green bushes, where she vow'd to meet me." |
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