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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 217 |
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MY LAND
S
HE is a rich and rare land; O she's a fresh and fair land; She is a dear and rare land — This native land of mine.
No men than hers are braver — Her women's hearts ne'er waver; I'd freely die to save her,
And think my lot divine.
She's not a dull or cold land; No ! she's a warm and bold land; O she's a true and old land — This native land of mine.
Could beauty ever guard her, And virtue still reward her, No foe would cross her border — No friend within it pine !
O she's a fresh and fair land, O she's a true and rare land ! Yes, she's a rare and fair land — This native land of mine. |
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OH! THE MARRIAGE
O
H ! the marriage, the marriage, With love and mo bhuachaiil1 for me, The ladies that ride in a carriage Might envy my marriage to me;
1 Mo bhuachaill, ma bouchal, my boy. |
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