8
For should I wear the weight of willow,
It would prove like a fatal dart.
Then, dear Philander, come away,
For I long to see the joyful day,
Which will crown our joys with innocent play:
Each vein, &c.
KATE KEARNEY.
Oh, did you not hear of Kate Kearney,
She lives on the banks of Kilearney,
From the glance of her eye, shun danger and fly,
for fatal's the glance of Kate Kearney.
For that eye is so modestly beaming,
You ne'er think of mischief she's dreaming,
Yet, Oh, I can tell, how fatal the spell,
That lurks in the eye of Kate Kearney.
Oh, should you ne'er meet this Kate Kearney,
Who lives on the banks of Kilearney,
Beware of her smile, for many a wile
Lies hid in the smile of Kate Kearney.
Tho' she looks so bewitchingly simple,
Yet there is mischief in ev'ry dimple,
And who dares enhale her sigh's spicy gale,
Must die by the breath of Kate Kearney.
