| lyric | 1. As beautiful Kitty one morning was tripping,
With a pitcher of milk from the fair of Coleraine,
When she saw me she stumbled, the pitcher it tumbled,
And all the sweet buttermilk water’d the plain.
’Oh what shall I do now, ’twas looking at you now,
Sure, sure such a pitcher I’ll ne’er see again.
’Twas the pride of my dairy! Oh! Barney McCleary,
You’re sent as a plague to the girls of Coleraine!
2. I sat down beside her and gently did chide her
That such a misfortune should give her such pain,-
A kiss there I gave her and before I did leave her
She vowed for such pleasure she’d break it again.
’Twas hay making season, I can’t tell the reason,
Misfortune will never come singly ’tis plain,-
For very soon after poor Kitty’s disaster,
Och! never a pitcher was whole in Coleraine. |