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The Star of the County Down

Near to Banbridge town in the county down
one morning in july
Down a booreen green came a sweet colleen
and she smiled as she passed me by
She looked so neat from here two white feet
to the sheen of her nut-brown hair
Such a coaxing elf I’d to shake myself
to make sure I was really there

From bantry bay up to Derry kay
and from Galway to Dublin town
No maid I've seen like the sweet Colleen
that I met in the county down

A she onward sped I scratched my head
and I gazed with a feeling rare
And I said, says I, to a passer-by
Who’s the maid with the nut-brown hair
He smiled at me and with pride says he
That’s the gem of Ireland’s crown
Young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann
She’s the star of the county down

From bantry bay . . .

At the harvest fair I’ll be surely there
so I’ll dress in my sunday clothes
And I’ll try sheep’s eyes and deludhering lies
on the heart of the nut-brown rose
No pipe I’ll smoke no horse I’ll yoke
though my plough with rust turns brown
Till a smiling bride by my own fireside
sits the star of the county down

From bantry bay . . .