|
| John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919. |
| Samuel Lover. (1797–1868) |
| 1 |
| A baby was sleeping, Its mother was weeping, For her husband was far on the wild-raging sea. |
| The Angel’s Whisper. |
| 2 |
| Reproof on her lip, but a smile in her eye. 1 |
| Rory O’ More. |
| 3 |
| For dhrames always go by conthraries, my dear. 2 |
| Rory O’ More. |
| 4 |
| “That ’s eight times to-day that you ’ve kissed me before.” “Then here goes another,” says he, “to make sure, For there ’s luck in odd numbers,” 3 says Rory O’More. |
| Rory O’ More. |
| 5 |
| As she sat in the low-backed car The man at the turn-pike bar Never asked for the toll But just rubbed his auld poll And looked after the low-backed car. |
| The low-backed Car. |
| 6 |
| Sure my love is all crost Like a bud in the frost And there’s no use at all in my going to bed, For ’t is dhrames and not slape that comes into my head! |
| Molly Carew. |
| 7 |
| And with my advice, faith I wish you’d take me. |
| Widow Machree. |
| 8 |
| Sure the shovel and tongs To each other belongs. |
| Widow Machree. |
| Note 1. See Scott, page 482. [back] |
| Note 2. See Middleton, page 172. [back] |
| Note 3. See Shakespeare, page 46. [back] |
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