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FOR IRELAND I'LL NOT TELL HER NAME

One eve as I happened to stray
By the lands that were bordering mine
A young girl I saw on my way
Who left me to languish and pine,
A slave of the charm and the mien
And the silver-toned voice of the dame,
To meet her I sped over the green,
Yet for Ireland I'd not tell her name.

Would she list to my love laden voice
That pledges but vows to the fair,
Would she make me for ever her choice
Her wealth would increase with my care;
I'd sing her our poet's sweetest lays.
Press close to my wild heart the dame,
Devote to her beauty the bays,
Yet for Ireland I'd not tell her name,

A maiden, young, tender refined,
By the lands that are bordering mine,
Hath graces and virtue of mind
And features surpassingly fine;
Blended amber and yellow compose
The ringleted hair of the dame,
Oh, her cheeks have the bloom of the rose,
Yet for Ireland I'd not tell her name.

John Barry Oge, Ballyheigue, Co. Kerry.