 | Lays of the Western Gael, and Other Poems |  |
151
THE FAIR HAIR'D GIRL.
IRISH SONG.
The sun has set, the stars are still,
The red moon hides behind the hill;
The tide has left the brown beach bare,
The birds have fled the upper air;
Upon her branch the lone cuckoo
Is chaunting still her sad adieu;
And you, my fair hair'd girl, must go
Across the salt-sea under woe!
The red moon hides behind the hill;
The tide has left the brown beach bare,
The birds have fled the upper air;
Upon her branch the lone cuckoo
Is chaunting still her sad adieu;
And you, my fair hair'd girl, must go
Across the salt-sea under woe!
I through love have learn'd three things,
Sorrow, sin and death it brings;
Yet day by day my heart within
Dares shame and sorrow, death and sin:
Maiden, you have aim'd the dart
Rankling in my ruin'd heart:
Maiden, may the God above
Grant you grace to grant me love!
Sorrow, sin and death it brings;
Yet day by day my heart within
Dares shame and sorrow, death and sin:
Maiden, you have aim'd the dart
Rankling in my ruin'd heart:
Maiden, may the God above
Grant you grace to grant me love!
Sweeter than the viol's string,
And the notes that blackbirds sing;
Brighter than the dewdrops rare
Is the maiden wondrous fair:
Like the silver swans at play
Is her neck, as bright as day!
Woe is me, that e'er my sight
Dwelt on charms so deadly bright!
And the notes that blackbirds sing;
Brighter than the dewdrops rare
Is the maiden wondrous fair:
Like the silver swans at play
Is her neck, as bright as day!
Woe is me, that e'er my sight
Dwelt on charms so deadly bright!
| Lays of the Western Gael, and Other Poems | |