Chorus.—Oh! Dermot Astore, &c.
Oh! Dermot Astore, how this fond heart would flutter,
When I met thee by night in a shady boreen,
And heard thine own voice in a soft whisper utter
Those words of endearment, “Mavourneen Colleen.”
I know we must part, but oh! say not forever,
That it may be for years adds enough to my pain;
But I’ll cling to the hope that, though now we must sever,
In some bless’d hour I shall meet thee again.
Chorus.—Oh! Dermot Astore, &c.