 | The Dramatic and Poetical Works of Joanna Baillie |  |
SONG,
FOR AN IRISH AIR.
Come, form we round a cheerful ring,
And broach the foaming ale,
And let the merry maiden sing,
The beldame tell her tale.
And broach the foaming ale,
And let the merry maiden sing,
The beldame tell her tale.
And let the sightless harper sit
The blazing fagot near;
And let the jester vent his wit,
The nurse her bantling cheer.
The blazing fagot near;
And let the jester vent his wit,
The nurse her bantling cheer.
Who shakes the door with angry din,
And would admitted be?
No, Gossip Winter! snug within,
We have no room for thee.
And would admitted be?
No, Gossip Winter! snug within,
We have no room for thee.
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Go scud it o'er Killarney's lake,
And shake the willows bare,
Where water-elves their pastime take,
Thou'lt find thy comrades there.
And shake the willows bare,
Where water-elves their pastime take,
Thou'lt find thy comrades there.
Will-o'-the-wisp skips in the dell,
The owl hoots on the tree,
They hold their nightly vigil well,
And so the while will we.
The owl hoots on the tree,
They hold their nightly vigil well,
And so the while will we.
Then strike we up the rousing glee,
And pass the beaker round,
Till every head, right merrily,
Is moving to the sound!
And pass the beaker round,
Till every head, right merrily,
Is moving to the sound!
| The Dramatic and Poetical Works of Joanna Baillie | |