The Star of the County Down
Near to Banbridge Town in the County Down,
One morning in July,
Down a boreen green came a sweet colleen,
and she smiled as she passed me by,
Oh, she looked so neat from her two white feet,
To the sheen of her nut-brown hair,
Sure the coaxing elf, I'd to shake myself,
To make sure I was standing there.
Oh, from Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay,
And from Galway to Dublin town,
No maid I've seen like the brown colleen
That I met in the County Down.
As she onward sped I shook my head,
And I gazed with a feeling quare,
And I said says I, to a passer-by,
Who's the maid with the nut-brown hair,
Oh, he smiled at me, and with pride says he,
That's the gem of Ireland's crown,
She's young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann,
She's the Star of the County Down.
She'd a soft brown eye, and a look so sly,
And a smile like the rose in June,
And you hung on each note from her lily white throat,
As she lifted an Irish tune.
At the pattern dance you were in a trance,
As she tripped through a reel or jig,
And when her eyes she'd roll, she'd coax upon my soul,
For a kiss of her soft red lips.
I've traveled a bit, but never was hit,
Since my roving career began,
But fair and square I surrendered there,
To the charms of young Rose McCann.
With my heart to let and no tenant yet,
Did I meet within shawl or gown,
But in she went and I asked no rent,
From the Star of the County Down.
At the crossroads fair I'll be surely there,
And 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.