Leaving Limerick

As I roved out one Evening, down by the Assembly Mall, I heard two lovers Speaking as my love and I passed on. But the words that passed between Them, they were but very Few. It's not the leaving of Limerick that Grieves me, but my darling Leaving you. In the morning when I am Going, I will take you by the lily White hand, and I'll Wave it over my Shoulders in a tune to the Limerick strand. And farewell to the boys of the Mont Gate. It's to them that I'll bid Adieu. It's not the leaving of Limerick that Grieves me, but my darling Leaving you. And now that I must be Parting, it's hard to Understand why I Must go brokenhearted in a Tune to the Limerick strand. Though, my fond love, I must leave You, you know that my heart is True. It's not the leaving of Limerick that Grieves me, but my darling Leaving you.