Page:Three famous new songs (1).pdf/6

 6 That seraphic fail one I freely would give For she totally proves my downfall In deep reverbration I’ll range the world o' er Namely from the pole to the Altlantic Still void of consolation now & for ever For the beauty of the valley below.

LARRY 0‘GAFF.

Near a bog in sweet Ireland I’m told sure that born I was; Well I remember a fine muddy morn it was; My father, poor man, would cry “What a green horn I was ! [laugh !“ Three months I’m married—O dear, how they’ll Says he to my mother,—“Troth, Judy I’ll leave you joy !”             [my boy Says Judy to him —- “ Och, the devil may cure, St. Patrick, ” says he, “ but I’ll leave yon beth here to cry What will we do for our Mr. O’Gaff? With my diderpo whack, off I am, None of your blarney, ma’am, Keep your brat..to him chat All the day, so you may;       [Larry, By the powers I won’t tarry!”—So he left little And I never saw more of my daddy O’Gad'.