KITTY OF COLERAINE.
As beautiful Kitty one
morning was tripping
With a pitcher of milk
from the fair of Coleraine,
When she saw me she stumbled,
the pitcher it tumbled,
And all the sweet buttermilk
water'd the plain.
"Oh, what shall I do now?
'Twas looking at you, now;
Sure, sure, such a pitcher
I'll ne'er meet again.
'Twas the pride of my dairy,
O Barnay M'Leary,
You're sent as a plague
to the girls of Coleraine!
I sat down beside her,
and gently did chide her,
That such a misfortune
should give her such pain.
A kiss then I gave her, before I did leave her, She vow'd for such pleasure she'd break it again. 'Twas haymaking season, I can't tell the reason— Misfortunes will never come single, that's plain— For very soon after poor Kitty's disaster The devil a pitcher was whole in Coleraine.
Edward Lysaght.