And the more I think of it the more my heart warms;
If I was at Kilkenny, I should then be at home,
For there I got sweethearts but here can get none.
I’ll build my love a castle on Kilkenny’s free ground;
Neither lords, dukes, nor squires shall e’er pull it down;
And if any one should ask you to tell him my name,
I am an Irish exile, and from Kilkenny I came.
The Emigrant’s Farewell.
I’m leaving you at last, Mary, and all I love behind,