Kathleen Mavourneen, the gray dawn is breaking,
The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill,
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Kathleen Mavourneen, the gray dawn is breaking,
The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill,
The lark from her light wing the bright dew is shaking--
Kathleen Mavourneen, what, slumbering, still?
Oh hast thou forgotten how soon we must sever?
Oh hast thou forgotten this day we must part?
It may be for years and it may be forever;
Oh why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart?

Excuse me, then! you know my heart;
But dearest friends, alas! must part.

Excuse me, then! you know my heart;
But dearest friends, alas! must part.

Till then, good-night!
You wish the time were now? And I.
You do not blush to wish read more

Till then, good-night!
You wish the time were now? And I.
You do not blush to wish it so?
You would have blush'd yourself to death
To own so much a year ago.
What! both these snowy hands? ah, then
I'll have to say, Good-night again.

My Book and Heart
Shall never part.

My Book and Heart
Shall never part.

Now fitted the halter, now travers'd the cart,
And often took leave; but was loth to part.

Now fitted the halter, now travers'd the cart,
And often took leave; but was loth to part.

Shall I bid her goe? what and if I doe?
Shall I bid her goe and spare not?
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Shall I bid her goe? what and if I doe?
Shall I bid her goe and spare not?
Oh no, no, no, I dare not.

Good-night! good-night! as we so oft have said
Beneath this roof at midnight, in the days
That read more

Good-night! good-night! as we so oft have said
Beneath this roof at midnight, in the days
That are no more, and shall no more return.
Thou hast but taken up thy lamp and gone to bed;
I stay a little longer, as one stays
To cover up the embers that still burn.

But in vain she did conjure him,
To depart her presence so,
Having a thousand tongues t' read more

But in vain she did conjure him,
To depart her presence so,
Having a thousand tongues t' allure him
And but one to bid him go.
When lips invite,
And eyes delight,
And cheeks as fresh as rose in June,
Persuade delay,--
What boots to say
Forego me now, come to me soon.

Adieu! 'tis love's last greeting,
The parting hour is come!
And fast thy soul is fleeting
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Adieu! 'tis love's last greeting,
The parting hour is come!
And fast thy soul is fleeting
To seek its starry home.