KATEY'S LETTER
Lady Dufferin

Och, girls dear, did you ever hear I wrote my love a letter?
And although he cannot read, sure, I thought 'twas all the better
For why should he be puzzled with hard spelling in the matter,
When the meaning was so plain that I loved him faithfully?
I love him faithfully -
And he knows it, oh, he knows it, without one word from me.

I wrote it, and I folded it and put a seal upon it;
'Twas a seal almost as big as the crown of my best bonnet-
For I would not have the postmaster make his remarks upon it,
As I said inside the letter that I loved him faithfully,
I love him faithfully -
And he knows it, oh, he knows it, without one word from me.

My heart was full, but when I wrote I dare not put the half in;
The neighbours know I love him, and they're might fond of chaffing,
So I dared not write his name outside for fear they would be laughing,
So I wrote, "From Little Kate to whom she loves faithfully."
I love him faithfully -
And he knows it, oh, he knows it, without one word from me.

Now, girls, would you believe it, that postman's so consated, [conceited],
No answer will he bring me so long as I have waited -
But maybe there may not be one for the reason that I stated,
That my love can neither read nor write, but he loves me faithfully,
He loves me faithfully -
And I know where'er my love is that he is true to me.

Published in Walton Songs #5: "The Irish Rover A Ballad Miscellany" ((Walton's, Dublin, 1966)

I don't know the air but there is an asterisk beside this title in the table of contents, denoted that "words and music are available from Waltons, Dublin", and the company still has a shop in Dublin city centre.

When I saw the title of this thread my first thought was of the contemporary Lady whose woodlands at Clandeboye are used by the Conservation Volunteers Northern Ireland. I think she is also "Dufferin" though my memory could be errant?

O BAY OF DUBLIN
Helen Selena, Lady Dufferin

O Bay of Dublin! My heart you're troublin'
Your beauty haunts me like a fevered dream,
Like frozen fountains when the sea starts bubblin',
My heart's blood warms when I but hear your name.
And never till this life pulse ceases,
My earliest thoughts you'll cease to be;
O there's no one here knows how fair that place is,
And no one cares how dear it is to me.

Sweet Wicklow mountains! The sunlight sleeping
On your green banks is a picture rare;
You crowd around me like young girls peeping,
And puzzling me to say which is most fair;
As though you'd see your own sweet faces,
Reflected in that smooth and silver sea,
O! my blessing on those lovely places,
Though no one cares how dear they are to me.

Sweet Wicklow mountains! The sunlight sleeping
On your green banks is a picture rare;
You crowd around me like young girls peeping,
And puzzling me to say which is most fair;
As though you'd see your own sweet faces,
Reflected in that smooth and silver sea,
O! my blessing on those lovely places,
Though no one cares how dear they are to me.

How often when at work I'm sitting,
And musing sadly on the days of yore
I think I see my Katey knitting
And the children playing round the cabin door;
I think I see the neighbours' faces
All gathered round, their long-lost friend to see.
O! though no one knows how fair that place is,
Heaven knows how dear my poor home was to me.