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Rory O'Moore

to an old Irish melody
Lyrics by Samuel Lover





Young Rory O'Moore courted Kathaleen brown,
He was bold as a hawk, and she, soft as dawn,
He wish'd in his heart pretty Kathleen to please,
And he thought the best way to do that was to tease;
"Now Rory by aisy," sweet Kathleen would cry,
Reproof on her lip but a smile in her eye,
"With your tricks I don't know, in troth, what I'm about,
Faith, you've teased till I've put on my cloak inside out,"
"Oh! Jewel" says Rory, "that same is the way
You've thrated my heart for this many a day,
And 'tis pleased that I am, and why not to be sure,
For 'tis all for good lucj says bold Rory O'Moore.

"Indeed then" says Kathleen "don't think of the like
For I half gave a promise in soothering Mike
The ground that I walk on he loves, I'll be bound"
"Faith" says Rory, I'll cry, if you don't let me go,
Sure I dream every night that I'm delighted to hear,
For dhrames always go by contrairies my dear;
Oh! Jewel, keep dreaming that same till you die,
And bright morning will give dirty night the black lie,
And 'tis pleased that I am, and why not to be sure?
Since 'tis all for good luck," says bold Rory O'Moore.

Arrah Kathleen my darling you've teas'd me enough,
And I've thrash'd for your sake Dinny Grimes and Jim Duff,
And I've made myself drinking your health quite a _taste,
So I think, after that, I may talk to the Priest!
Then Rory, the rogue, stole his arm round her neck,
So soft and so white, without freckle or speck
And he look'd in her eyes that were beaming with light,
And he kiss'd her sweet lips--don't you think he was right?
"Now Rory leave off Sir--you'll hug me no more,
That's eight times to day that you've kiss'd me befoire;"
"Then here goes another" says he "to make sure
For there's no luck to odd numbers" says Rory O'Moore.