 | Collected Poems of Moira O'Neill |  |
71
A LATE WOOING.
Am I the young man that you sent for to see?
An' tell me what is it you're wantin' with me?—
“'Tis you that I sent for, 'tis you that I need,
An' what I am wantin' you know it indeed.”
An' tell me what is it you're wantin' with me?—
“'Tis you that I sent for, 'tis you that I need,
An' what I am wantin' you know it indeed.”
Then spare me the tale an' I'll save you the blush,
For all you would offer I'd care not a rush.—
“Sure then it was false what you said long ago,
An' moved me to love you to bring me to woe.”
For all you would offer I'd care not a rush.—
“Sure then it was false what you said long ago,
An' moved me to love you to bring me to woe.”
72
I said that I loved you as dear as my life,
You mocked when I wanted to make you my wife.—
“Forget it, forget it! That's over an' bye,
An' if I must lose you I'm soon like to die.”
You mocked when I wanted to make you my wife.—
“Forget it, forget it! That's over an' bye,
An' if I must lose you I'm soon like to die.”
Oh, never be thinkin' you'll win me to rue,
If you live or you die or whatever you do!
You killed the young love that you cared not to save,—
I'll smile when the young grass is green on your grave.
If you live or you die or whatever you do!
You killed the young love that you cared not to save,—
I'll smile when the young grass is green on your grave.
| Collected Poems of Moira O'Neill | |