Now westlin winds/The lasses of Dublin

THE LASSES OF DUBLIN.

The meadows look cheerful, the birds sweetly sing
So gaily they carrol the praises of Spring:
Though Nature rejoices, poor Norah shall mourn,
Until her dear Patrick again shall return.

Ye lasses of Dublin, ah hide your gay charms,
Nor lure her dear Patrick from Norah's fond arms
Though satins, and ribbands, and laces are fine,
They hide not a heart with such feeling as mine.

FINIS

This work was published before January 1, 1927, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.

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