 | Irish Poems |  |
53
THE GREEN RIBBON
To My God-Child Olivia
All
around my hat I will wear the green ribbon, O.
All round my hat for a year and a day;
And if anybody asks me why do I wear it
I'll say that my true love is far, far away.
All round my hat for a year and a day;
And if anybody asks me why do I wear it
I'll say that my true love is far, far away.
For green is the colour of the weeping willow, O,
And green is the colour for her that is true;
Tell my love if he come not I die of my sorrow, O,
And shall sleep deep, forgetting the pangs I knew.
And green is the colour for her that is true;
Tell my love if he come not I die of my sorrow, O,
And shall sleep deep, forgetting the pangs I knew.
I shall say: “My sweet mother, make my bride-clothes ready, O,”
I shall say: “Little sister, weep not for me,
But clothe me in silver like a beauteous lady, O,
And hide not my face lest he come and see.”
I shall say: “Little sister, weep not for me,
But clothe me in silver like a beauteous lady, O,
And hide not my face lest he come and see.”
Six gentle knights to the grave will carry me,
The maids shall strew violets my face above,
They will say: “She was constant,” and weep as they bury me,
Saying: “Here is a true maid who died of love.”
The maids shall strew violets my face above,
They will say: “She was constant,” and weep as they bury me,
Saying: “Here is a true maid who died of love.”
54
O what have I to do with life and with living, O!
If he should come not I shall not know.
I shall sleep on so sweetly, done with care and grieving, O,
Alone in my bride-bed the moulds below.
If he should come not I shall not know.
I shall sleep on so sweetly, done with care and grieving, O,
Alone in my bride-bed the moulds below.
List, ye grave pilgrims, who journey to Walsingham,
Say if you meet him that his love lies sick—
Sore sick with loving and will soon be dying, O;
If he would save her that he travel quick.
Say if you meet him that his love lies sick—
Sore sick with loving and will soon be dying, O;
If he would save her that he travel quick.
All around my hat now I wear the green ribbon, O,
So have I worn it a year and above;
Say if he come not he will find me sleeping, O;
With a stone at my head that I died of love.
So have I worn it a year and above;
Say if he come not he will find me sleeping, O;
With a stone at my head that I died of love.
| Irish Poems | |