The Sweet Shady Groves of Clontead

It being in the month of October to Cork I was going on my way
All nature seemed dreary and lonely, no creature I noticed that day,
Till I spied a fair maiden most lovely as she sat down a sewing in the shade,
By the lovely sweet village of Coachford and the sweet shady groves of Clontead.

To approach her at once I stepped forward in a customary moment of grace,
I bowed to her ladyship humbly, most frankly I told her my case,
I said if she'd make me her own love she need not henceforth be afraid
My bride I would make her in Coachford by the sweet shady groves of Clontead.

This maiden replied in a a moment in as gentle a tone as could be,
"Too forward, young man hast thou spoken much trust to impose it on me
My parents would blame me, you know well if with you alone I had strayed
From the lovely sweet village of Coachford and the sweet shady groves of Clontead.


My case I appealed and once more said "My pretty and courtly young dame
Believe me to be no impostor, I never was known by that name.
But if you will make me your own love you need not henceforth be afraid,
My bride I will make you in Coachford and the sweet shady groves of Clontead.

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