Tho' England's a beautiful counthry,
Full of illegant boys, och, what then?
You wouldn't forget your poor Terence,
You'll come back to ould Ireland agen!······And when you come back to me, Kathleen,
None the betther shall I be off then.
You'll be spakin' such beautiful English
I won't know my Kathleen agen!
Eh! now where' s the need of this hurry?
Don't fluster me now in this way,
I've forgot, 'twixt the grief and the flurry,
Ev'ry word I was manin' to say.
Now just wait a minute, I bid ye,
Can I talk if you bother me so?
Och, Kathleen, my blessin' go wid ye,
Every inch of the way that ye go!
There is not the least effort in Lady Dufferin's ballads. She seems to have thoroughly enjoyed writing them—she sang as the birds sing, because they must. Some of her society verses, though in quite a different style, are very amusing. The Charming Woman is perhaps the best, and, moreover, contains a piece of good advice at the end:
Don't marry a charming woman
If you are a sensible man!
