HE came from the North, and his words were few, But his voice was kind and his heart was true; And I knew by his eyes no guile had he, So I married the man of the North Countrie. Oh! Garryowen may be more gay, Than this quiet street of Ballibay; And I know the sun shines softly down On the river that passes my native town. But there's not -- I say it with joy and pride -- Better man than mine in Munster wide; And Limerick town has no happier hearth Than mine has been with my man of the North. I wish that in Munster they only knew The kind, kind neighbours I came unto: Small hate or scorn would ever be Between the South and the North Countrie. |