Irish Love-songs

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Katharine Tynan
T. F. Unwin, 1892 - Ballads, English - 118 pages
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Page 103 - Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet; She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet. She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree; But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree.
Page 76 - I'm cast down. If some great lord should come this way, and see your beauty bright, And you to be his lady, I'd own it was but right.
Page 28 - All day long in unrest, To and fro do I move, The very soul within my breast Is wasted for you, love! The heart in my bosom faints To think of you, my Queen, My life of life, my saint of saints, My dark Rosaleen!
Page 27 - O MY dark Rosaleen, Do not sigh, do not weep! The priests are on the ocean green, They march along the deep. There's wine from the royal Pope, Upon the ocean green; And Spanish ale shall give you hope, My dark Rosaleen!
Page 24 - You're sent as a plague to the girls of Coleraine." I sat down beside her, and gently did chide her, That such a misfortune should give her such pain. A kiss then I gave her; and ere I did leave her, She vowed for such pleasure she'd break it again.
Page 75 - Her nose is straight and handsome, her eyebrows lifted up, Her chin is very neat and pert, and smooth like a china cup, Her hair's the brag of Ireland, so weighty and so fine ; It's rolling down upon her neck, and gathered in a twine. The dance o...
Page 64 - Somehow, when he asked, she ne'er thought of refusing. Now, Felix Magee puts his pipes to his knee, And with flourish so free sets each couple in motion; With a cheer and a bound, the lads patter the ground, The maids move around just like swans on the ocean: Cheeks bright as the rose — feet light as the doe's, Now...
Page 75 - She danced a jig, she sung a song, that took my heart away. When she stood up for dancing, her steps were so complete, The music nearly...
Page 64 - Tis hard to refuse when a young lover sues, So she couldn't but choose to go off to the dancing. And now on the green the glad groups are seen — Each gay-hearted lad with the lass of his choosing ; And Pat, without fail, leads out sweet Kitty Neil — Somehow, when he asked, she ne'er thought of refusing. Now Felix Magee puts his pipes to his knee, And, with flourish so free, sets each couple in motion ; With a cheer and a bound, the lads patter the ground— The maids move around just like swans...
Page 23 - As beautiful Kitty one morning was tripping With a pitcher of milk from the fair of Coleraine, When she saw me she stumbled, the pitcher it tumbled, And all the sweet buttermilk watered the plain.

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