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Show "Herself." When I hear the praises chanted Of the maidens of today, 1 When I hear their beauties vaunted By Rome lover young; and pay. To hersel' though bending under Weight of years, I them compare, And, in troth, I often wonder If our jrirls have grown less fair. For it's herself is just as merry As the day that we were wed. And her lips still match the cherry When it rlimmt-rs ruddy red. True, her steps and mine were lighter When we two were joined as one, And her hair's than silver whiter, And her dancing days are done. Soft and tender were her blushes, But herself can yet in song 5 Put to shame the dusky thrushes, ' Hidden bouphs of jrreen amon?, . ; And for spinning and for knitting. Not from Cork to Donegal j Would you find an equal fitting . For herself at all, at' all. i Sure there's ne'er a butter buyer "5 ."3 In Kilb'-nnan market square ' t But you'll notice standing nigh her On the Tuesday mornings there; . Hound hr basket as they cluster, V Should they offer prices low, Faith, her eyes have still the luster ' That they had long years ago. " j Not a man of any station ; In the county far and wide " ' i Envied I in my elation V : When the said 6he'd be my bride, And if both were free tomorrow, " . j As the wind o'er hill and plain ; "' j After years of joy and sorrow, ' i i 1 'Ti herself I'd choose again. j f Boston Pilot, j |