Return to Song Index

The Irish Girl

This song is found in England and America.
The words are taken from 19th century broadsides.
The tune is Irish, and may have been called: "Oh Love, it is a Killing Thing".


    As I walked out one morning, down by a river's side,
    And gazing all around me, an Irish girl I spied.
    The tears ran down her rosy cheeks, and she began to cry,
    My love's gone to America, and quite forsaken me.

    I went to church last Sunday, my love he passed me by.
    I knew his mind was changing by the roving of his eye.
    I knew his mind was altered to a girl of high degree,
    Saying, Willy, lovely Willy, your love has wounded me.

    Last night as I lay on my bed, so sick and bad was I,
    I called for a knapkin, around my head to tie.
    Was he as bad in love as me, perhaps I'd mend again,
    O love, it is a killing thing, did you ever feel the pain ?

    I wish I was a butterfly, I'd fly to my love's breast,
    I wish I was a linnet, I would sing my love to rest,
    I wish I was a nightingale, I'd sit and sing so clear,
    I'd sing a song for you, false love, for once I loved you dear.


<bgsound src="irishgal.mid" width=2 height=0 loop=infinite>