With praise that is ringing, some people keep singing,
That putting the whole world together
No land can compare to the loveliness rare
Of a Scottish lass born ‘mid the heather.
And others are telling in language compelling
That wherever their wanderings have been
They’ve ne’er had the pleasure to find such a treasure
As blue-eyed Kathleen Mavoureen.
Then some folks are saying that odds they are laying,
If you want you can search the world o’er
You’ll not find a beginner there’s only one winner
The lassie from old England’s shore.
I’m beginning to doubt it, though I didn’t want to shout it
But I’ve just heard a whisper today
That one of the’We Seven’ has landed in heaven
And it’s only a day’s ride away!
Whilst he was touring, a lassie alluring,
The essence of ‘Sweet Seventeen’
His vision enraptured, his heart she encaptured
A dear little Welsh Gwendoline.
We gave him assistance, we taught him persistence
For though slow he was awfully keen;
And so by insistence he broke all resistance
And now she’s his sweet Gwendoline.
A Valentine (Sequel to Gwen)
Dear Gwen I pen this note to you
I ain’t much good at verse
But still it’s time I wrote to you,
For better, or for worse.
Although so many miles from you
So many miles away;
I can’t forget those smiles from you
Last New Year’s Day.
I can’t forget that talk with you,
In the village street –
Although I know that walk with you
Was short and sweet.
Dear Gwen, I pen this ode to you
Until again we meet
And when those miles I’ve rode to you
Don’t run up’t street!