Four Popular Songs (1)/Kathleen O'Moore

Kathleen O'More.

My love still I think that I see her once more,
But alas she has left me her loss to deplore
My own little Kathleen my poor lost Kathleen
my Kathleen, O!

Her hair glossv black her eyes were dark blue
Her colour still changing her smiles ever new
So pretty was Kathleen my sweet little Kathleen
my Kathleen O.

She milk'd the dun cow that ne er offer d to stir,
Though wicked it was it was gentle to her
So kind was my Kathleen my poor little Kathleen
my Kathleen O

She sat at the door one cold afternoon,
To hear the wind blow and to look at the moon
So pensive was Kathleen my poor little Kathleen
my Kathleen, O

Cold was the night-breeze that sigh d round her bower
It chill'd my poor Kathleen she drooped from that hour,
And I lost my poor Kathleen my own little
Kathleen my Kathleen O

The bird of all birds that I love the best,
Is the Robin that in the churchyard builds his nest,
For he seems to watch Kathleen hops lightly on
Kathleen my Kathleen O