Kitty of Coleraine

Charles Dawson Shanly (1811–1875)

AS beautiful Kitty one morning was tripping

With a pitcher of milk, from the fair of Coleraine,

When she saw me she stumbled, the pitcher it tumbled,

And all the sweet buttermilk watered the plain.

“O, what shall I do now—’t was looking at you now!

Sure, sure, such a pitcher I ’ll ne’er meet again!

’T was the pride of my dairy: O Barney M’Cleary!

You ’re sent as a plague to the girls of Coleraine.”

I sat down beside her, and gently did chide her,

That such a misfortune should give her such pain.

A kiss then I gave her; and ere I did leave her,

She vowed for such pleasure she ’d break it again.

’T was hay-making season—I can’t tell the reason—

Misfortunes will never come single, ’t is plain;

For very soon after poor Kitty’s disaster

The devil a pitcher was whole in Coleraine.