Nice Little Jane From Ballinasloe

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You lads that are funny, and call maids your honey,
Give ear for a moment, I’ll not keep you long.
I’m wounded by Cupid, he has made me stupid,
To tell you the truth, now, my brain’s nearly wrong;
A neat little posy, who does live quite cosy,
Has kept me unable to walk to and fro;
Each day I’m declining, in love I’m repining,
For nice little jenny from Ballinasloe.

It was in September, I’ll ever remember,
I went out to walk by a clear river side
For sweet recreation, but, to my vexation,
This wonder of Nature I quickly espied;
I stood for to view her an hour I’m sure;
The earth could not show such a damsel I know,
As that little girl, the pride of the world,
Called nice little Jenny from Ballinasloe.

I said to her. ‘Darling! this is a nice morning;
The birds sing enchanting, which charms the groves;
Their notes do delight me, and you do invite me,
Along this clear water some time for to rove;
Your beauty has won me and surely undone me,
If you won’t agree for to cure my sad woe,
So great is my sorrow, I’ll ne’er see tomorrow,
My sweet little Jenny from Ballinasloe.’

‘Sir, I did not invite you, nor yet clue not slight you;
You’re at your own option to act as you please;
I am not ambitious, nor e’er was officious,
I am never inclined to disdain or to tease;
I love conversation, likewise recreation,
I’m free with a friend, and I’m cold with a foe;
But my virtue’s my glory and will be till I’m hoary,’
Said nice little Jenny from Ballinasloe.

‘Most lovely of creatures! your beautiful features
Have sorely attracted and captured my heart;
If you won’t relieve me, in truth you may believe me,
Bewildered in sorrow till death I must smart;
I’m at your election, so grant me protection,
And feel for a creature that’s tortured in woe;
One smile it will heal me; one frown it will kill me;
Sweet nice little Jenny from Ballinasloe!’

‘Sir, yonder’s my lover, if he should discover
Or ever take notice you spoke unto me,
He’d close your existence in spite of resistance;
Be pleased to withdraw, then, lest he might you see;
You see he’s approaching, then don’t be encroaching,
He has his large dog and his gun there also;
Although you’re a stranger I wish you from danger,’
Said nice little Jenny from Ballinasloe.

I bowed then genteely, and thanked her quite freely;
I bid her adieu and took to the road;
So great was my trouble my pace I did double;
My heart was oppressed and sank down with the load;
For ever I’ll mourn for beauteous Jane Curran,
And ramble about in affection and woe,
And think of the hour I saw that sweet flower. –
My dear little Jenny from Ballinasloe!

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