Terances Farewell To Kathleen - John McCormack

So, my Kathleen, you’re going to leave me

All alone by myself in this place,

But I’m sure that you’ll never deceive me,

Oh, no, if there’s truth in that face.

Though England’s a beautiful country,

Full of illigant boys, oh, what then

You’ll never forget your poor Terence,

You’ll come back to old Ireland again.

Och, those English deceivers by nature

Though may be you’d think them sincere,

They’ll say you’re a sweet charming creature,

But don’t you believe them, my dear;

No, Kathleen, agra! don’t be minding

The flattering speeches they’d make,

Just tell them a poor lad in Ireland

Is breaking his heart for your sake.

It’s a folly to keep you from going,

Though, faith, tis a mighty hard case

For, Kathleen, you know there’s no knowing

When next I may see your sweet face,

And when you come back to me, Kathleen,

None the better shall I be off, then

You’ll be speaking such beautiful English,

Oh, I won’t know my Kathleen again.

Oh, now, where’s the need of this hurry,

Don’t fluster me so in this way

I forgot 'twist my grief and the flurry,

Every word I was meaning to say.

Just wait now a minute, I bid you

Can I talk if you bother me so?

Oh, Kathleen, my blessings go with you,

Ev’ry inch of the way that you go.