So, my Kathleen, you're going to leave me
All alone by myself in this place,
But I'm sure that you'll never deceive me,
Oh, no, if there's truth in that face.
Though England's a beautiful country,
Full of illigant boys, oh, what then--
You'll never forget your poor Terence,
You'll come back to old Ireland again.
It's a folly to keep you from going,
Though, faith, tis a mighty hard case--
For, Kathleen, you know there's no knowing
When next I may see your sweet face,
And when you come back to me, Kathleen,
None the better shall I be off, then--
You'll be speaking such beautiful English,
Oh, I won't know my Kathleen again.
Oh, now, where's the need of this hurry,
Don't fluster me so in this way--
I forgot 'twist my grief and the flurry,
Every word I was meaning to say.
Just wait now a minute, I bid you--
Can I talk if you bother me so?
Oh, Kathleen, my blessings go with you,
Ev'ry inch of the way that you go.