Oh! Phadrig Crohoore was a broth of a boy,
And he stood six feet eight;
His arm was as big as another man's thigh,--
'Tis Phadrig was great.
As he walked slowly up, watched by many a bright eye,
As a dark cloud moves on through the stars in the sky--
None dared to oppose him, for Phadrig was great,
Till he stood, all alone, just in front of the seat
Where O'Hanlon and Kathleen, his beautiful bride,
Were seated together, the two side by side.
He looked on Kathleen till her poor heart near broke,
Then he turned to her father, O'Brien, and spoke,
And his voice, like the thunder, was deep, strong, and loud,
And his eyes flashed like lightning from under a cloud:
"I did not come here like a tame, crawling mouse;
I stand like a man, in my enemy's house.
In the field, on the road, Phadrig never knew fear
Of his foemen, and God knows he now scorns it here.
I ask but your leave, for three minutes or four,
To speak to the girl whom I ne'er may see more."
Then he turned to Kathleen, and his voice changed its tone,
For he thought of the days when he called her his own;
And said he, "Kathleen, bawn, is it true what I hear--
Is this match your free choice, without threat'ning or fear?
If so, say the word, and I'll turn and depart--
Cheated once, but once only, by woman's false heart.
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