 | The Irish Poems of Alfred Perceval Graves |  |
SPINNING-WHEEL SONG
Once my wheel ran cheerily round,
Ran cheerily round from day to day,
But now it drags how wearily round;
For Owen's gone away.
Once I spun soft carolling O,
Soft carolling O! from morn to eve,
But since we started quarrelling, oh!
'Tis silently I weave.
Ran cheerily round from day to day,
But now it drags how wearily round;
For Owen's gone away.
Once I spun soft carolling O,
Soft carolling O! from morn to eve,
But since we started quarrelling, oh!
'Tis silently I weave.
Has he joined Sir Arthur, ochone!
Sir Arthur, ochone! to fight the French?
Though he was rude, I'd rather, ochone!
He joined me on this bench.
Hush! he's been deluthering you,
Deluthering you with swords and drums,
And now I think 'tis soothering you,
'Tis soothering you, he comes.
Sir Arthur, ochone! to fight the French?
Though he was rude, I'd rather, ochone!
He joined me on this bench.
Hush! he's been deluthering you,
Deluthering you with swords and drums,
And now I think 'tis soothering you,
'Tis soothering you, he comes.
| The Irish Poems of Alfred Perceval Graves | |