 | Irish Songs and Ballads |  |
105
ANGLO-IRISH BALLADS.
106
GRAGALMACHREE.
At the foot of Newry Mountain, to a stream in the wood
One day I went fishing, and the take was so good
That the very first moment my angle was out
My hook it was fast in a fine plunging trout.
One day I went fishing, and the take was so good
That the very first moment my angle was out
My hook it was fast in a fine plunging trout.
But as down stream I stepped, with my soul full of sport,
On a sudden I chanced on a charming resort:
Where the beeches were bending in beautiful bowers
O'er a velvet-green carpet embroidered with flowers.
On a sudden I chanced on a charming resort:
Where the beeches were bending in beautiful bowers
O'er a velvet-green carpet embroidered with flowers.
And from under that arbour, so cool and so deep,
A colleen's voice chanted that made my heart leap,
For the song that she sang was, “My Lawrence, come hither,
For upon my secret heart you 've put your comether.”
A colleen's voice chanted that made my heart leap,
For the song that she sang was, “My Lawrence, come hither,
For upon my secret heart you 've put your comether.”
I threw down my angle, and, in through the shade,
Stole soft to the side of that young, blooming maid:
O, she's slender in the waist and her face is fair to see,
And her name in plain Irish is, Gragalmachree.
Stole soft to the side of that young, blooming maid:
O, she's slender in the waist and her face is fair to see,
And her name in plain Irish is, Gragalmachree.
111
For her tears and her sobs she scarcely could say,
“Ah, Lawrence! ah, Lawrence! what carried you this way
To overhear the secret long lodged in my breast,
And leave me for ever disgraced and distressed?”
“Ah, Lawrence! ah, Lawrence! what carried you this way
To overhear the secret long lodged in my breast,
And leave me for ever disgraced and distressed?”
Now, comfort you, comfort you, Gragalmachree,
For that little, sweet song was Heaven's music to me,
And God's blessing for ever attend on the thought
That took me fishing trout, till I found myself caught.
For that little, sweet song was Heaven's music to me,
And God's blessing for ever attend on the thought
That took me fishing trout, till I found myself caught.
And the moon she may darken and the stars lose their light:
And the green plains of Erin they may blacken with blight,
And her mountains all melt in the middle of the sea,
If I ever prove false to my Gragalmachree.
And the green plains of Erin they may blacken with blight,
And her mountains all melt in the middle of the sea,
If I ever prove false to my Gragalmachree.
112
MY BONNY CUCKOO.
My bonny cuckoo, come whisper true!
Around the world I'd rove with you;
I'd rove with you until the next spring,
And still my cuckoo would sweetly sing,—
“Cuckoo! cuckoo!” until the next spring;
“Cuckoo! cuckoo!” until the next spring.
Around the world I'd rove with you;
I'd rove with you until the next spring,
And still my cuckoo would sweetly sing,—
“Cuckoo! cuckoo!” until the next spring;
“Cuckoo! cuckoo!” until the next spring.
The ash and the hazel shall mourning say,—
“Oh, merry cuckoo, don't fly away!
The winter wind is rude and keen;
Oh, cuckoo, stay and keep us green!
Cuckoo! cuckoo! oh stay! oh stay!
And make the season for ever May!”
“Oh, merry cuckoo, don't fly away!
The winter wind is rude and keen;
Oh, cuckoo, stay and keep us green!
Cuckoo! cuckoo! oh stay! oh stay!
And make the season for ever May!”
The thrush and the robin shall sadly cry,—
“Our bonny cuckoo, oh, do not fly!
For when you spread your speckled wing
We have no longer heart to sing.
Cuckoo, cuckoo, still lead our tune,
And make the season for ever June!”
“Our bonny cuckoo, oh, do not fly!
For when you spread your speckled wing
We have no longer heart to sing.
Cuckoo, cuckoo, still lead our tune,
And make the season for ever June!”
115
The lads and the lasses together stand,
And call their cuckoo from off the strand,—
“How can you leave us, bird of love,
With the green below and the blue above?
Oh no! oh no! you shall not go,
With the blue above and the green below.”
And call their cuckoo from off the strand,—
“How can you leave us, bird of love,
With the green below and the blue above?
Oh no! oh no! you shall not go,
With the blue above and the green below.”
116
THE WILLOW TREE.
Oh, take me to your arms, love, for we alas must part;
Oh, take me to your arms, love, for the pain is at my heart.
She hears not, she cares not, but coldly keeps from me,
While here I lie, alone to die, beneath the willow tree.
Oh, take me to your arms, love, for the pain is at my heart.
She hears not, she cares not, but coldly keeps from me,
While here I lie, alone to die, beneath the willow tree.
My love has blooming beauty, my cheek is deadly wan;
My love has countless riches, my gallant fortune's gone.
This ribbon fair, that bound her hair, is all that's left to me,
While here I lie, alone to die, beneath the willow tree.
My love has countless riches, my gallant fortune's gone.
This ribbon fair, that bound her hair, is all that's left to me,
While here I lie, alone to die, beneath the willow tree.
I once had gold and silver I thought would never end:
I once had gold and silver, and I thought I had a friend:
My wealth is sped, my friend has fled and stolen my love from me;
While here I lie, alone to die, beneath the willow tree.
I once had gold and silver, and I thought I had a friend:
My wealth is sped, my friend has fled and stolen my love from me;
While here I lie, alone to die, beneath the willow tree.
117
JENNY.
With laughing looks I once arose,
How dark soe'er the day;
Now sadly every sunburst shows,
For joy has fled away, Jenny;
For joy has fled away!
How dark soe'er the day;
Now sadly every sunburst shows,
For joy has fled away, Jenny;
For joy has fled away!
Nor flocks nor herds nor store of gold,
Nor broad estate have I;
If beauty must be bought and sold,
Alas! I cannot buy, Jenny;
Alas! I cannot buy.
Nor broad estate have I;
If beauty must be bought and sold,
Alas! I cannot buy, Jenny;
Alas! I cannot buy.
Yet I'll be rich, if you'll be kind,
And once again agree
To bear me still in loving mind
Till I've a home for thee, Jenny;
A home till death for thee.
And once again agree
To bear me still in loving mind
Till I've a home for thee, Jenny;
A home till death for thee.
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