Kate Kearney.
Oh! did you ne’er hear of Kate Kearney?
She lives on the banks of Killarney:
From the glance of her eye, shun danger and fly,
For fatal’s the glance of Kate Kearney.
For that eye is so modestly beaming,
You ne’er think of mischief she’s dreaming;
Yet, oh! I can tell, how fatal’s the spell,
That lurks in the eye of Kate Kearney.
O should you e’er meet this Kate Kearnev,
Who lives on the bank of Killarney,
Beware of her smile, for many a wile
Lies hid in the smile of Kate Kearney.
Though she looks so bewitchingly simple,
Yet there’s mischief in every dimple;
And who dares inhale her sigh’s spicy gale,
Must die by the breath of Kate Kearney.
Answer to Kate Kearney.
Oh, yes, I have seen this Kate Kearney,
Who lives near the lake of Killarney;
From her love-beaming eye, what mortal can fly,
Unsubdued by the glance of Kate Kearney?
For that eye so seducingly meaning,
Assures me of mischief she’s dreaming;
And I feel ’tis in vain to fly from the chain
That binds me to lovely Kate Kearney.
At eve when I’ve met this Kate Kearney,
On the flower-mantled banks of Killarney,
Her smile would impart thrilling joy to my heart,
As I gaz’d on the charming Kate Kearney.
On the banks of Killarney reclining,
My bosom to rapture resigning,
I’ve felt the keen smart of love’s fatal dart,
And inhal’d the warm sigh of Kate Kearney.