My Paistin Finn is my sole desire, And
I am shrunken to skin and bone, For
all my heart has had for its hire Is
what I can whistle alone and alone. Oro, oro! To-morrow
night I will break down the door. What
is the good of a man and he Alone
and alone, with a speckled shin? I
would that I drank with my love on my knee Between
two barrels at the inn. Oro, oro! To-morrow
night I will break down the door. Alone
and alone nine nights I lay Between
two bushes under the rain; I
thought to have whistled her down that way, I
whistled and whistled and whistled in vain. Oro, oro! To-morrow night I will break down the door. |
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