As beautiful Kitty one morning was tripping

With a pitcher of milk from the fair of Coleraine,

When she saw me she stumbled, the pitcher it tumbled,

And all the sweet buttermilk water'd the plain.

Oh! what shall I do now, 'twas looking at you now,

Sure such a fine pitcher ne'er see again,

'Twas the pride of my dairy,

Oh! Barney McCleary you're sent as a plague

To the girls of Coleraine.

I sat down beside her, and gently did chide her,

That such a misfortune, should give her such pain,

A kiss then I gave her, and before I did leave her,

She vow'd for such pleasure, she'd break it again.

'Twas haymaking season, I can't tell the reason,

Misfortune, will never come single 'tis plain,

For very soon after poor Kitty's disaster,