Balinamora Ora

Wherever, I'm going and all the day long, Abroad or at home, or alone in a throng, I find that my passion's so lively and strong, That your name, when I'm silent, runs still in my song Sing Balinamone Ora, Balinamone Ora, A kiss of your sweet lips for me.

Since the first time I saw you I take no repose; I sleep all the day to forget half my woes: So hot is the flame in my bosom which glows, By St. Patrick I fear it will burn thro' my clothes. Sing Balinamone Ora, Balinamone Ora, Your pretty black hair for me.

In my conscience; I fear I shall die in my grave, Unless you comply, and poor Phelim will shave, And grant the petition your lover does crave, Who never was free till you made him your slave: Sing Balinamone Ora, Balinamone Ora, Your pretty black eyes for me.

On that happy day, when I make you my bride, With a swinging long sword, how I'll strut and I'll stride In a coach and six horses with honey I'll ride, As before you I walk to the church by your side. Sing Balinamone Ora, Balinamone Ora, Your little white fist for me.