Kitty Tyrrell.
Copied by permission of Firth, Pond, & Co., 547 Broadway, N. Y., publishers of the music.
You’re looking as fresh as the morn, darling,
You’re looking as bright as the day;
But while on your charms I’m dilating,
You’re stealing my poor heart away.
But keep it and welcome, mavourneen,
Its loss I’m not going to mourn;
Yet one heart’s enough for a body,
So pray give me yours in return.
Mavourneen, mavourneen,
Oh! pray give me yours in return.
I’ve built me a neat little cot, darling,
I’ve pigs and potatoes in store;
I’ve twenty good pounds in the bank, love,
And may be, a pound or two more.
It’s all very well to have riches,
But I’m such a covetous elf,
I can’t help still sighing for something,
And, darling, that something’s yourself.
Mavourneen, mavourneen,
And that something, you know, is yourself.
You’re smiling, and that’s a good sign, darling;
Say “Yes,” and you’ll never repent;
Or, if you would rather be silent,
Your silence I’ll take for consent.
That good-natured dimple’s a tell-tale,
Now all that I have is your own,
This week you may be Kitty Tyrrell,
Next week you’ll be Mistress Malone.
Mavourneen, mavourneen,
You’ll be my own Mistress Malone.