Absence

The meadows look chearful, the birds sweetly sing, So gaily they carol the praises of spring, Tho' nature rejoices poor Norah must mourn, Until her dear Patrick again shall return.

Ye lasses of Dublin, ah! hide your gay charms, Nor 'lure my dear Patrick from Norah's fond arms, Tho' sattins, and ribbons, and laces are fine, They hide not a heart with such feelings as mine.