"The Mountains of Mourne"
by Percy French (1896)
Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful sight,
With people all working by day and by night.
Sure they don't sow potatoes, nor barley, nor wheat,
But there's gangs of them digging 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 digging for gold,
But for all that I found there I might as well be
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
There's beautiful girls here, oh never you mind,
With beautiful shapes nature never designed,
And lovely complexions all roses and cream,
But let me remark with regard to the same:
That if of those roses you venture to sip,
The colours might all come away on your lip,
So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waiting for me
In the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.
I was listening to this song by Celtic Thunder the other day it's called The Mountains of Mourne. and the last line just makes me smile. it's about a guy who goes to london to work, and write home to his girl how even though there are beautiful women that he will wait for the girl back home. so i Drew a picture of the girl back home. Pencils, inks, and copics.