 | The Irish Poems of Alfred Perceval Graves |  |
THE HOUR WE PARTED
The hour we parted,
When broken-hearted
You clung around me,
Maureen, aroo!
I swore I'd treasure,
Thro' pain and pleasure,
Thro' health and sickness
My love for you.
When broken-hearted
You clung around me,
Maureen, aroo!
I swore I'd treasure,
Thro' pain and pleasure,
Thro' health and sickness
My love for you.
And still that jewel,
Thro' changes cruel
Of fickle Fortune
I'll jealous guard;
Still let her vary,
The jade contràry,
If but my Mary
Be my reward.
Thro' changes cruel
Of fickle Fortune
I'll jealous guard;
87
The jade contràry,
If but my Mary
Be my reward.
Yes! scorn and anger,
Distress and langour,
They're welcome willing,
The long day thro';
Could I feel certain
That ev'ning's curtain
But clos'd us nearer,
Maureen, aroo!
Distress and langour,
They're welcome willing,
The long day thro';
Could I feel certain
That ev'ning's curtain
But clos'd us nearer,
Maureen, aroo!
The dreamy shadows
Along the meadows
Go softly stealing,
And falls the dew;
And o'er the billows,
Like faithful swallows,
All, all my thoughts, dear,
Fly home to you.
Along the meadows
Go softly stealing,
And falls the dew;
And o'er the billows,
Like faithful swallows,
All, all my thoughts, dear,
Fly home to you.
With touches silken,
I see you milkin'
The crossest Kerry
In Adragole;
And like a fairy,
You're singing, Mary,
Till every keeler
Is foaming full.
I see you milkin'
The crossest Kerry
In Adragole;
And like a fairy,
You're singing, Mary,
Till every keeler
Is foaming full.
88
The night is falling,
And you are calling
The cattle homeward,
With coaxing tone;
In God's own keeping,
Awake or sleeping,
'Tis now I leave you,
Maureen, mavrone!
And you are calling
The cattle homeward,
With coaxing tone;
In God's own keeping,
Awake or sleeping,
'Tis now I leave you,
Maureen, mavrone!
| The Irish Poems of Alfred Perceval Graves | |