KITTY OF COLERAINE.
S 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. Oh, Barney M’Leary,
You’re sent as a plague to the girls of Coleraine!
