 | Twilight Songs |  |
23
IRELAND LONG AGO.
The smell of the wet earth after the heavy rain
Reminds me of Ireland long ago,
When silver mists were rising from off an emerald plain
In darling Ireland long ago.
When the grass so green and silken was higher than your knee;
And every bud and blossom was full of the honey bee,
And the sap was running lusty in many a bush and tree
In darling Ireland long ago.
Reminds me of Ireland long ago,
When silver mists were rising from off an emerald plain
In darling Ireland long ago.
When the grass so green and silken was higher than your knee;
And every bud and blossom was full of the honey bee,
And the sap was running lusty in many a bush and tree
In darling Ireland long ago.
The breath of the full earth after the bitter drought
Reminds me of Ireland long ago,
When amber streams were running and the haw-thorn was out
In darling Ireland long ago.
When the mountains stood up purple, wrapped in the wisps of cloud,
And there wasn't a thrush or blackbird but sang his praise aloud,
And the trees drip-dripped with silver till their heavy heads were bowed
In darling Ireland long ago.
Reminds me of Ireland long ago,
When amber streams were running and the haw-thorn was out
In darling Ireland long ago.
When the mountains stood up purple, wrapped in the wisps of cloud,
And there wasn't a thrush or blackbird but sang his praise aloud,
And the trees drip-dripped with silver till their heavy heads were bowed
In darling Ireland long ago.
24
The thirsty mouths all drinking that were so parched and dry
Remind me of Ireland long ago,
When the foggy dew was raining and he corn it was high;
In darling Ireland long ago,
When the meadows ran like rivers and the colleen's curls were wet
And the dew hung on her lashes and her cheek was cold and sweet;
The wind of early morning I'm not forgetting yet
In darling Ireland long ago.
Remind me of Ireland long ago,
When the foggy dew was raining and he corn it was high;
In darling Ireland long ago,
When the meadows ran like rivers and the colleen's curls were wet
And the dew hung on her lashes and her cheek was cold and sweet;
The wind of early morning I'm not forgetting yet
In darling Ireland long ago.
The wind that stirs the branches—'tis blowing from the west—
Reminds me of Ireland long ago,
When my heart was warm and quiet as a young bird in the nest
In darling Ireland long ago.
'Tis she goes crying softly like a thing of little ease,
Only to be a child again beside my father's knees,
And coming home of evening to his fond smile and his kiss,
In darling Ireland long ago.
Reminds me of Ireland long ago,
When my heart was warm and quiet as a young bird in the nest
In darling Ireland long ago.
'Tis she goes crying softly like a thing of little ease,
Only to be a child again beside my father's knees,
And coming home of evening to his fond smile and his kiss,
In darling Ireland long ago.
| Twilight Songs | |