Kitty of Coleraine


As beautiful Kitty, one morning was tripping
With a pitcher of milk from the fair of Coleraine
When she saw me she stumbled, the pitcher it tumbled
And all the sweet buttermilk watered the plain
Oh! what shall I do now, ’twas looking at you now
Sure, sure, such a pitcher I’ll ne’er have again
‘Twas the pride of my dairy, oh Barney McCleary
You’re sent as a plague on the girls of Coleraine

I sat down beside her and gently did chide her
That such a misfortune should give her such pain
A kiss then I gave her, before I did leave her
She vowed for such pleasure, she’d break it again.
‘Twas haymaking season, I can’t tell the reason
Misfortune will never come single, ’tis plain
For very soon after poor Kitty’s disaster
The divil a pitcher was whole in Coleraine

Derry 1

Songs of Derry


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