BETA

The Rose of Kenmare.


I’ve been soft in a small way1
On the girleens of Galway,2
And the Limerick lassies have made me feel quare ;3
But there’s no use denyin4
No girl I’ve set eye on5
Could compate wid Rose Ryan of the town of Kinmare.6

Chorus.

O, where can her like be found ?7
Nowhere the counthry round,8
Spins at her wheel9
Daughther as thrue,10
Sets in the reel11
Wid a slide of the shoe,12
a slinderer,13
tinderer,14
wittier,15
purtier colleen, than you16
Rose, aroo !17
Her hair mocks the sunshine,18
And the soft silver moonshine,19
Neck and arm of the colleen complately eclipse ;20
Whilst the nose of the jewel21
Slants sthraight as Carn Tual,122
From the heaven in her eye to her heather-swate lips.23
O, where, &c.24
1 Carn Tual. The highest peak of Macgillicuddys Reeks, as seen from the town of
Kenmare, presents a strong resemblance to a Grecian nose.
Did your eyes ever follow25
The wings of the swallow26
Here and there, light as air, o’er the meadow field glance,27
For if not ye’ve no notion28
Of the exquisite motion29
Of her swate little feet as they dart in the dance.30
O, where, &c.31
If y’enquire why the nightingale32
Still shuns the invitin gale33
That wafts every song-bird but her to the wesht,34
Faix she knows, I suppose,35
Ould Kinmare has a Rose36
That would sing anny Bulbul to sleep in her nesht.37
O, where, &c.38
When her voice gives the warnin39
For the milkin in the mornin40
Ey’n the cow known for hornin comes runnin to her pail ;41
The lambs play about her42
And the small bonneens1 snout her,43
Whilsht their parints salute her wid a twisht of the tail.44
O, where, &c.45
Whin at noon from our labour46
We draw neighbour wid neighbour47
From the heat of the sun to the shilther of the tree,48
Wid spuds2 fresh from the bilin49
And new milk you come smilin,50
All the boys’ hearts beguilin, alanah machree !51
O, where, &c.52
But there’s one swater hour53
Whin the hot day is o’er54
And we rest at the door wid the bright moon above,55
And she sittin in the middle,56
Whin she’s guessed. Larry’s riddle57
Cries, ‘ Now for your fiddle, Shiel Dhuv, Shiel Dhuv.’58
O, where, &c.59
1 Young pigs.
2 Potatoes.