'Twas a cold winter's night and the tempest was snarlin', The snow like a sheet covered cabin and stye, When Barney flew over the hills to his darlin', And tapped at the window where Katy did lie. "Arrah, jewel," said he, 'are ye sleepin' or wakin', The night's bitter cold, an' my coat it is thin; Or, the storm 'tis a brewin', the frost it is bakin', Oh, Katy Avourneen, you must let me in."
Arrah, Barney, cried she, and she spoke thro' the window, Ah, would ye be takin' me out of my bed! To come at this time it's a shame and a sin, too; It's whiskey, not love, that's got into your head. If your heart it was true, of my fame you'd be tender, Consider the time and there's nobody in, Oh, what has a poor girl but her name to defend her; No, Barney Avourneen, I wont let you in.
Ah, cushla, cried he, it's my heart is a fountain, That weeps for the wrong I might lay at your door; Your name is more white than the snow on the mountain, And Barney would die to preserve it as pure; I'll go to my home, though the winter winds face me, I'll whistle them off for I'm happy within, An' the words of my Kathleen will comfort and bless me; Oh, Barney Avourneen, I won't let you in.
Wm. J. Schmidt, 360 Mulberry Street, Baltimore. Publisher of American, English, Irish, Dutch, Negro, Sailor, Soldier, Comic, Humorous, College, Sentimental, Social and Religious, Choice Selected Standard Songs.
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