Love Songs, &c, SONG

The kiss that he gave when he left me behind, Sealed the promise of Patrick's love; And when to my sailor I'm false or unkind, Such falsehood expect from the dove; The promise of lovers should ne'er be forgot, And I promis'd the lad, tho' behind him I tarry'd; That I ne'er would forsake him, tho humble his lot, Oh! hone! if I do, may I never be marry'd.

Now the winds and the waves bear him over the sea, The young squire would give me fine things; But what are his riches or grandeur to me, His baubles, his ribbons and rings? The promise of lovers should ne'er be forgot, And I promis'd the lad tho' behind him I tarried, That I ne'er would forsake him tho' humble his lot, Oh! hone! if I do, may I never be married.

His cabbin is low, but content dwells within, And snug is the thatch o'er the door, For riches without him I care not a pin, For my sailor's the lad I adore; The promise of lovers should ne'er be forgot, Yet some times such hopes, we all know, have miscarry'd; I trust he'll prove true, but I'll sit him if not, Oh! hone! if I don't, may I ne'er be marry'd.