| - An Old Irish Hill In The Morning
I'm weary and sick of the sights of the town Though haughty its mansions and high its renown O! if some good fairy would but set me down On an Old Irish hill in... - The Ould Plaid Shawl
Not far from old Kinvara, in the merry month of May, When birds were singing cheerily, there came across my way, As if from out the sky above an angel chanced t...
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