With as pretty a curtsy as ever you ’d see;
“Won’t you pause?” I inquired; “I don’t mind,” said her mien,
So we looked, side by side, from the Bridge of Luckeen.
How the minutes flew by, an’ the stream how it flowed,
While never a soul came along by the road;
An’ I thought her eyes sweeter than Maeve ever knew,
An’ she deemed me far bolder than Brian Boru!
There ’s a priest that ties knots, so the knowin’ ones say,
In a neat little church in the town of Glenbeigh;
[p 63]
]If he ’ll tie just one more, I ’ll be thinkin’, I ween,