Kitty of Coleraine
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 watered the plain.
“O, what shall I do now—’t was looking at you now!
Sure, sure, such a pitcher I ’ll ne’er meet again!
’T was the pride of my dairy: O Barney M’Cleary!
You ’re sent as a plague to the girls of Coleraine.”
I sat down beside her, and gently did chide her,
That such a misfortune should give her such pain.
A kiss then I gave her; and ere I did leave her,
She vowed for such pleasure she ’d break it again.
’T was hay-making season—I can’t tell the reason—
Misfortunes will never come single, ’t is plain;
For very soon after poor Kitty’s disaster
The devil a pitcher was whole in Coleraine.