19
Young Dermot holds on with his sweet botheration,
And swears their is only one flower in the nation,
"Thou rose of the Shannon, thou pink of creation,
"Och, go to the North with me, Molly, my dear!"
"The sun courts thy smiles as he sinks in the ocean,
The moon to thy charms veils her face in devotion,
And I my poor self, och! so rich is my notion,
Would pay down the world for sweet Molly, my
dear."
"Though Thady can match all the lads with his
blarney,
And sing me love songs of the Lakes of Killarney,
In worth from my Dermot he's twenty miles journey,
My heart bids me tell him I'll ne'er be his dear."
-------
ELLEN MORE.
THE sun had kissed green Erin's waves,
The dark blue mountains towered between,
Mild evening's dews refreshed the leaves,
The moon, unclouded, rose serene:
When Ellen wandered forth unseen,
All lone her sorrows to deplore;
False was her lover, false her friend,
And false was hope to Ellen More.
Young Henry was fair Ellen's love,
Young Emma to her heart was dear,
Nor weal nor woe did Ellen prove,
But Emma ever seemed to share:
Yet envious still, she spread the wile
That sullied Ellen's virtues o'er;
Her faithlees Henry spurned the while,
His fair, his faithful Ellen More.
