| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 373 |
|||
|
Her voice is gay, but soft and low, The sweetest of all trebles,
A silver brook, that in its flow, Chimes over pearly pebbles.
A happy heart, a temper bright, ' Her radiant smile expresses ;
And, like a wealth of golden light, Rain down her sunny tresses.
Earth's desert clime, Whose sands are time,
Will prove a glad oasis If 'tis my fate My friends, to mate
With such a girl as Grace is. |
|||
|
o |
FATHER O'FLYNN
F priests we can offer a charmin' variety, Far renowned for larnin' and piety ; Still, I'd advance ye widout impropriety,
Father O'Flynn as the flower of them all.
CHORUS.
Here's a health to you, Father O'Flynn, Slainte, and slainte, and sldinte agin ;
Powerfulest preacher, and
Tinderest teacher, and Kindliest creature in ould Donegal. |
||