Page:Five popular songs (1).pdf/7

7 Her eyes are as black as Kilkenny’s large coal,

Which through my poor bosom have burnt a

big hole;

Her mind, like its rivers, is mild, clear and

pure,

But her hear is more hard than its marble,

I’m sure.

Fal de ral, &c.

Kilkenny’s is pretty town, and shines where

it stands,

And the more I think on it the more my

heart warms;

For if was in Kilkenny I’d think myself at

home,

For its there I’d get sweathearts, but here I

get none.

Fal de ral, &c.

I WADNA LEA MY LOWLAND LAD. Haud awa', bide awa'

Hand awa' frae me, Donald;

What care I for a' your wrealth,

An' a' that ye can gi'e, Donald?

I wadna lea' my Lowland lad

For a' your goud and gear, Donald;

Sae tak' your plaid, and o'er the hill,

An' stay nae langer here, Donald

Haud awa', bide awa', &c.