 | The Poems of Thomas Davis |  |
59
THE BISHOP'S DAUGHTER.
I
Killala's halls are proud and fair;Tyrawley's hills are cold and bare;
Yet, in the palace, you were sad,
While, here, your heart is safe and glad.
II
No satin couch, no maiden train,Are here to soothe each passing pain;
Yet lay your head my breast upon,—
'Twill turn to down for you, sweet one!
III
Your father's halls are rich and fair,And plain the home you've come to share;
But happy love's a fairy king,
And sheds a grace on every thing.
| The Poems of Thomas Davis | |