My garden at the back

When I came over from old Rosstrevor,

Here to London Town,

A lonesome spell upon me fell

For Kate and County Down.

'Twas gloomy toil for her glad smile,

Grey stone for grassy track;

Till I took heart at last to start

A garden at the back.

With country mould at morn and eve,

Still I plied my plot;

Then sow'd and set musk, mignonette,

Pink, rose, forget-me-not.

Till bees they flew from out the blue,

And butterflies they'd tack,

O blessed hour, from flow'r to flow'r

Of my garden at the back.

Then when I 'd but the Christmas rose,

To end the flow'ry race,

Around the corner came my scorner

With a sadden'd face.

The cause to guess of her distress

For sure I was not slack,

And now her eyes make Paradise

Of my garden at the back.