Mountains of Mourne (Percy French/Houston Collison - 1896)

Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful sight, With people all working by day and by night. Sure they don't sow potatoes, nor barley, nor wheat, But there's gangs of them digging for gold in the street. At least when I asked them that's what I was told, So I just took a hand at this digging for gold, But for all that I found there I might as well be Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

You remember old Peter O'Loughlin of course He's here now at the head of the force I saw him today he was crossing the strand He stopped the whole line with a wave of his hand And as we stood talking the days that are gone The whole population of London looked on But for all his fine powers he's wishful like me To be where the dark Mournes sweep down to the sea

There's beautiful girls here, oh never you mind, With beautiful shapes nature never designed, And lovely complexions all roses and cream, But let me remark with regard to the same: Of all these fine flowers you venture to sip You know they might all come away on your lip So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waiting for me Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea

Oh Mary, this London's a wonderful sight

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