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?

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.

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.

Say good-bye er howdy-do--
What's the odds betwixt the two?
Comin'--goin'--every day--
Best friends read more

Say good-bye er howdy-do--
What's the odds betwixt the two?
Comin'--goin'--every day--
Best friends first to go away--
Grasp of hands you'd ruther hold
Than their weight in solid gold,
Slips their grip while greetin' you,--
Say good-bye er howdy-do?

If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed;
If not, 'tis true this parting was well made.

If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed;
If not, 'tis true this parting was well made.

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.

In every parting there is an image of death.

In every parting there is an image of death.

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.

Such parting break the heart they fondly hope to heal.

Such parting break the heart they fondly hope to heal.