Lovely

            Banks of Boyne.

I am a faithful damsel I love my laddy well,
it his heart was true to me more than tongues can tell,
in my father's castle he won this heart of mine,
no's left me to wander on the lovely banks of Boyne.

His hair it flowed in ringlets, his cheeks were like the rose,
His teeth as white as ivory, his eyes as black as sloes,
His promises they seemed sincere and his aspect bold and true,
He left me here to wander on the lovely banks of Boyne,

He courted me a year or two he promised me to wed,
Vint he gained my favor and then he from me fled ;
fill love it flies like morning dew when the sun begins to shine.
And he quite forgot young Flora on the lovely banks of Boyne.

I understand that false young man to London went away,
I packed up all my jewellery upon that very day,
I took farewell of my parents who for me does pine,
And left my fathers castle on the lovely banks of Pine.

With post haste then I started to fair London town,
And there I got married to a lady of rhino,
Young ladies guess my feelings and shun all like designs
Don't be tempted like young Flora on the lovely banks of Boyne.

Farewell unto those lovely streams that are so far away,
Whore me and my bonny boy so oft did sport and play,
It's in the walls of Bedlem I'll spend my youthful time,
With iron balts and rattling chains far from the banks of Beyne

            A NEW SONG-

        O'Brien of Tipperary.

You loyal hearted Irishmen attend unto my tale,
Those lines are true you may depend I am going to reveal,
As if an Irish emigrant from the town of Templemore,
Like many seeking for employment on Columbia's shore.

William O'Brien of Tipperary is the subject of my tale
Before that crual war began to America he came,
He was of a good character his spirit light and free,
And by a draft to weed the north against the enemy.

In the Philadelphia regiment I mean to let you know,
O'Brien many a battle fought against the southern foe,
The Majors daughter fell in love with him you plainly see,
Her father then resolved to prove her destiny,

On March the fifth in New Orleans the Major he did swear,
They did insult that soldier brave all on the barrack square,
You may thank your daughter said O'Brien, or else I'll end your
strife,
The major then his sword he drew and thought to take his life.

O'Brien then a pistol drew with an eye both sharp and keen,
And like a gallant soldier brave he quickly took his aim,
In order to defend his life he fired the fatal ball,
Ho lodged it in the major's breast which made that tyrant fall.

As soon as this report was heard the guards did him surround,
He was taken prisoner and in irons firmly bound,
Court-martial on O'Brien was held immediately,
He was sentenced to be shot far from his friends and country.

When O'Brien received his sentence no fear of death did show,
Unto the execution place he manfully did go
By an holy priest from Clonmel Town he was prepared to die,
In hopes for to get pardon from the Lord that rules on high.

His coffin was got ready, he was ordered to kneel down,
The sergeant with hie handkerchief his eyes he firmly bound,
The firing party in the front twelve guns they did prepare,
So many a soldier for O'Brien shed a silent tear.

They were ordered to fix bayonets, present, ready, and fire.
Before one trigger it was drawn the major's daughter did appear,
With a voice as loud as thunder, come, set that prisoner free
She read a letter of his reprieve was granted on to me.

She quickly seized O'Brien, she took him by the hand,
Rise up my bold Tipperary boy, you're now at my command,
It's true I'm in love with you, though you took my father's life.
He had vengeance swore against you I ne'er should be your wife,

Now to conclude and finish and see what love can do,
She got married to O'Brien. she was both loyal and true,
She freed him from that fated ball, her dear and only joy,
She's now in New York city with her bold Tipperary boy.