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HIBEKNIAN SONGSTER. |
201 |
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Methinks that there are passions
Within that heaving breast To scorn their heartless fashions,
And wed whom you love best. Methinks you would be prouder
As the struggling patriot's bride, Than if rank your home should crowd, or
Cold riches round you.glide. O! the watcher longs for morning.
And the.infant cries for light, And the saint for Heaven's warning,
And the vanquished pray for might; But their prayer, when lowest kneeling.
And their suppliance most true, Are cold to the appealing
Of this longing heart to you.
ELLEN BAWN.
Ellen Bawn, 0, Ellen Bawn, you darling, darling dear, you, .
Sit awhile beside me here, I'll die unless I'm near you!
'TIs for you I'd swim the Suir and breast the Shannon's waters:
For Ellen dear, you've not your peer in Galway's blooming daughters!
Had I Limerick's gems and gold at will to mete and measure,
Were Loughrea's abundance mine, and all Portumna's treasure,
These might lure me, might insure me many and many a new love,
But 0! no bribe could pay your tribe for One like you, my true love!
Blessings be on Connaught! that's the place for sport and raking!
Blessings, too, my love, on you, a-sleeplng and a-waklng!
I'd have met you, dearest Ellen, when the sun went under,
But, woe! the flooding Shannon broke across my path in thunder!
Ellen! I'd give all the deer in Limerick's parks and arbors.
Ay, and all the ships that rode last year in Munster's harbors,
Could I blot from Time the hour I first became your lover,
For O! you've given my heart a wound it never can recover!
Would to God that in the sod my eorpse< to-night were lying.
And the wild birds wheeling o'er it, and the winds a-sighing,
Since your cruel mother and your kindred choose to sever
Two hearts that Love would blend in one for ever and for ever! |
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ALLY CROAKER.
There once lived a man! in Balinacrazy, Who wanted a wife, to make him unasy, Long had he slgh'd for dear Ally Croaker, And thus the gentle youth he bespoke her, "Will you marry me, Dear Ally Croaker? Will you marry me, Dear Ally Croaker?" This artless young man just come from the schoolery, A novice in love, and all its sad foolery, Too dull for a wit, too grave for a joker, And thus the gentle youth he bespoke her—
"Will you marry me," etc. He drank with the father, he talk'd with the mother, He danc'd with the sister, he gam'd with the brother, He gam'd till he lost his coat to the broker, Which lost him the heart of his dear Ally Croaker.
Oh! the fickle, etc. To all you young men who are fond of gaming, And losing your money while others are saving; Fortune's a jilt—the divil may choke her! A Jilt more inconstant than dear Ally Croaker.
Oh! the inconstant, etc. |
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