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HIBERNIAN SONGSTER. |
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THE GREEN MOSSY BANKS OF THE IEE.
When first to this country a stranger,
Curiosity caused me to roam; Over Europe an exile I wandered,
Par from my American home. At length I arrived in sweet Erin,
This land I had long wished to see; And my footsteps seemed guided by fairies,
To the green -mossy banks of the Lee.
One morning I carelessly wandered,
Where the pure winds of heaven do blow; Down by the clear crystal river,
Where the swift running waters do flow. 'Twas there I espied a fair damsel,
Most modest appearing to me. As she rose from a seat near the water,
On the green mossy banks of the Lee.
I stepped up and wished her good-morning,
Her fair cheeks they blushed like the rose; I said, then: "These meadows are charming,
And your escort I'll be if you choose!" She said, then: "I ne'er want an escort.
Kind sir, you're a stranger to me; But yonder my father is coming,' '
On the green mossy banks of the Lee.**
I waited till up came her father,
I plucked up my courage once more; Said I, then: "If this be your daughter,
She Is truly the girl I adore. Ten thousand a year is my fortune,
A lady your daughter shall be; And ride with her carriage and horses
On the green mossy banks of the Lee."
They welcomed me home to their cottage,
Soon after in wedlock we joined; 'Twas then that I rented this castle,
In grandeur and splendor to shine. And it's here our kind friends we are greeting,
Each knows what his welcome will be; While we both bless the hour of our meeting
On the green mossy banks of the Lee.
Come all you fair maidens that's handsome,
No matter how poor you may be; For there's many a poor girl more handsome
Than those with a large property; With flattery let no man deceive yau,
Not knowing what his fortune may be; Like the adorable, gentle Matilda
On the green mossy banks of the Lee. |
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THE PRIDE OF MAYO.
I am thinking to-night of my own little darling,
And I know that she is also a thinking of me; Oh, won't I be happy when on the sea sailing
Back to that Emerald isle of the sea. To that little thatched cabin, the home of my boyhood,
I wished it was morn, for I long for to go, To see my old father and loving old mother,
And my own little Mary, the pride of Mayo.
Chortjs.—I know that she Is patiently awaiting my coming, I think of my darling wherever I go; Oh, won't I be happy when on the sea sailing To my own little Mary, the prido of May©. |
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