 | Irish Songs and Ballads |  |
185
SONG: TO E. P.
When our little Queen was born,
Winter first with furious pother
Flew to fix his icy scorn
On the infant and the mother.
Winter first with furious pother
Flew to fix his icy scorn
On the infant and the mother.
But in such a loving fashion
Side by side he found them laid,
That to pity all his passion
Melting quite, he softly said:
Side by side he found them laid,
That to pity all his passion
Melting quite, he softly said:
“Child and mother sleep unharmed!
See how vanquished by your beauty
Winter's dreadful self disarmed
Kneels to do you dearest duty.”
See how vanquished by your beauty
Winter's dreadful self disarmed
Kneels to do you dearest duty.”
Then a courser blast bestriding,
Winter waved his wild adieu,
And the gentle spring came guiding
To the couch her zephyrs blue.
Winter waved his wild adieu,
And the gentle spring came guiding
To the couch her zephyrs blue.
186
Leaning there, the imperial maid,
From the crystal car that bore her,
Lightly her flower-sceptre laid
On the lovely babe before her,
From the crystal car that bore her,
Lightly her flower-sceptre laid
On the lovely babe before her,
Whisp'ring, “Since thy wiles have driven
Winter from my budding bowers,
Every grace I e'er have given,
Mortal maiden, shall be yours.
Winter from my budding bowers,
Every grace I e'er have given,
Mortal maiden, shall be yours.
“See! I touch with violets two
Lisa's lids, in token tender
Of the eyes of modest blue
That shall most enchantment lend her.
Lisa's lids, in token tender
Of the eyes of modest blue
That shall most enchantment lend her.
“Next I lay these mountain daisies,
Clustering close with crimson tips
Round their petals' pearly graces,
For a sign on Lisa's lips.
Clustering close with crimson tips
Round their petals' pearly graces,
For a sign on Lisa's lips.
“Now her tiny cheek I tint
With this trailing apple blossom,
And these snowdrops for a hint
Drop into her dainty bosom.
With this trailing apple blossom,
And these snowdrops for a hint
Drop into her dainty bosom.
187
“Last for Lisa's heart this pansy!”
Here she stooped and whispering spoke,
Ere she sped, so fond a fancy
That our Lisa smiling woke.
Here she stooped and whispering spoke,
Ere she sped, so fond a fancy
That our Lisa smiling woke.
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