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Bridgit
O'Malley
Oh Bridgit O’Malley, you left my heart shaken
With a hopeless desolation, I’d have you to know
It’s the wonders of admiration your quiet face
has taken
And your beauty will haunt me wherever I go.
The white moon above the pale sands, the pale
stars
above the thorn tree
Are cold beside my darling, but no purer than
she
I gaze upon the cold moon till the stars drown
in the warm sea
And the bright eyes of my darling are never on
me.
My Sunday it is weary, my Sunday it is grey now
My heart is a cold thing, my heart is a stone
All joy is dead within me, my life has gone away
now
For another has taken my love for his own.
The day it is approaching when we were to be
married
And it’s rather I would die than live only to
grieve
Oh meet me, my Darling, e’er the sun sets o’er
the barley
And I’ll meet you there on the road to
Drumslieve.
Oh Bridgit O’Malley, you’ve left my heart shaken
With a hopeless desolation, I’d have you to know
It’s the wonders of admiration your quiet face
has taken
And your beauty will haunt me wherever I go.
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