Mountains O'Mourne

Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful sight
With people here working by day and by night
They don't sow potatoes nor barley nor wheat
But there's gangs of them diggin'
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 diggin' for gold
But for all that I've found there
I might as well be
In the place where the dark Mourne
Sweeps down to the sea

I believe that when writin'
A wish you expressed
As to how the fine ladies
In London were dressed
Well if you'll believe me
When asked to a ball
They don't wear no tops to
Their dresses at all
Oh, I've seen them myself and
You could not in truth
Tell it if they were bound for
A ball or a bath
Don't be startin' them fashions now
Mary McRee
In the place where the dark Mourne
Sweeps down to the sea

There's beautiful girls here, oh
Never you mind
Beautiful shapes Nature never designed
Lovely complexions of roses and cream
But let me remark with regard to the same
That if at those roses you venture to sip
The colors might all come away on your lip
So I'll wait for the wild
Rose that's waitin' for me
In the place where the dark Mourne
Sweeps down to the sea

You remember young Diddy McClaren, of course
Well he's over here with the
Rest of the force
I saw him one day as he stood on the Strand
Stopped all the traffic with a
Wave of his hand
And as we were talking of days that are gone
The whole town of London stood
There to look on
But for all his great powers
He's wishful like me
To be back where the dark Mourne
Sweeps down to the sea