Ballads of Irish chivalry By Robert Dwyer Joyce: Edited, with Annotations, by his brother P. W. Joyce |
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THE STORMY SEA SHALL FLOW IN. |
 | Ballads of Irish chivalry |  |
THE STORMY SEA SHALL FLOW IN.
I
The stormy sea shall flow in,Our highland valleys through,
Ere I, my faithful Owen,
Prove false to love and you.
My heart was sad and lonely,
Each weary night and day,
Till your kind accents only
Have chased my grief away.
II
For my dear mother left me—Cold cold in death she lies—
Ah, how drear fortune reft me
Of all my heart could prize!
139
Unto some foreign zone,
And I was left to ponder
Upon my grief alone.
III
Then came a sure sweet tokenSuch sorrows might not last:
In joy you ne'er had spoken,
You spoke when joy had passed.
Then the stormy sea shall flow in,
Our highland valleys through,
Ere I, my faithful Owen,
Prove false to love and you.
| Ballads of Irish chivalry | |