 | Ballads of Irish chivalry |  |
229
THERE IS A TREE IN DARRA'S WOOD.
I
There is a tree in Darra's woodThat bears the rose-red berry,
Where sweetly sings the fairy flood
With cadence wild and merry;—
O love! like berries of that tree,
Thy red lips smile so dearly,
And like that stream's glad minstrelsy
Thy laugh rings soft and clearly!
So clearly, so clearly,
So witching, soft, and clearly,
That evermore I must adore
And love thee, true love, dearly!
II
Beneath that tree I've built a bower,Its roof with love-knots twining,
And there the snowy shamrock flower
And blue-bells gay are shining,—
I've built a bower within my breast
And placed thee on its throne, love,
And ever there I'll love thee best,
My dark-eyed Grace, my own love!
My own love, my own love,
I've have placed thee on its throne, love,
And day and night, for ever bright,
There you shall reign, my own love!
III
'Mid Darra's wood a castle tallStands wrecked with age, and hoary;
A white rose tree hangs from its wall
With blooms of star-like glory;—
230
Kind nature's own adorning:
Thy heart is stainless as the dew
That gems its leaves at morning:—
At morning, at morning,
When dew that flower's adorning,
When out I rove thro' Darra's grove,
To think on thee at morning.
IV
Oh! still may wane the summer moon,The gay flowers follow after;
The merry birds may hush their tune,
And glad streams cease their laughter;
The leaves may wither on the tree,
All things grow cold and drear, love,
But that sweet bower I've built to thee
Shall ever bloom, my dear love!
My dear love, my dear love,
You'll reign without a peer, love,
That bower within, the glorious queen
Of my fond heart, my dear love!
| Ballads of Irish chivalry | |