Oh Mary this London's a wonderful sight
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With the people here working by day and by night
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They don't sow potatoes nor barley nor wheat
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But there's gangs of them digging for gold in the street,
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At least when I asked them that's what I was told
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So I just took a hand at this digging for gold
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But for all that I found there I might as well be
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Where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea
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I believe that when writing a wish you expressed
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As to how the fine ladies in London were dressed
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Well if you'll believe me, when asked to a ball
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They don't wear a top to their dresses at all!
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Oh I've seen them myself, and you could not in truth,(by half)
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Tell if they were bound for a ball or a bath
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Don't be starting them fashions now, Marry Machree
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Where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea
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You remember young Peter O'Loughlin, of course
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Well, now he is here at the head of the force
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I met him today, I was crossing the strand
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And he stopped the whole street
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with one wave of his hand
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And there we stood talking of days that are gone
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While the whole population of London looked on
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But for all these great powers, he's wishful like me
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To be back where dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea
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There's beautiful girls here - oh never you mind!
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With beautiful shapes nature never designed
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And lovely complexions, all roses and 'cream
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But O'Loughlin remarked with regard to the same:
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"That if all those roses you venture to sip,
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The colour might all come away on your lip"
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So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waiting for me
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Where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea
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The Mountains of Mourne
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| John McDermott |
