IRISH
I
do be
thinking, lassie, of the old days now,
For oh,
your hair is tangled gold above your Irish brow
And oh,
your eyes are fairy flax, no other flower so blue,
Come
nestle in my arms and swing upon the shoogy shoo.
Sweet
and slow,
Swinging
low,
Eyes of
Irish blue,
All my
heart is swinging, dear, swinging here with you,
Irish
eyes are like the flax
And mine
are wet with dew,
Thinking
of the old days upon the shoogy shoo.
When
meadow larks would singing be
In old
Glentair was one I knew had eyes like you and tangled golden hair
We were
but lad and lassie then and all the world was new
That
swung us high and swung us low upon the shoogy shoo.
Sweet
and slow,
Swinging
low,
Eyes of
Irish blue,
All my
heart is swinging, dear, swinging here with you,
Irish
eyes are like the flax
And mine
are wet with dew,
Thinking
of the old days upon the shoogy shoo.
Ah,
well, the world goes up and down and some sweet day,
Its
shoogy shoo will swing us two where sighs will pass away,
So
nestle here your bonnie head and close your eyes so true
And
swing with me in memory upon the shoogy shoo.
Sweet
and slow,
Swinging
low,
Eyes of
Irish blue,
All my
heart is swinging, dear, swinging here with you.
Irish
eyes are like the flax
And mine
are wet with dew,
Thinking
of the old days upon the shoogy shoo.
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Since
first we trod the world's road 'tis many a weary day,
And eyes
as bright and hearts as light have long since passed away,
But well
I know a gable low where swallows build with clay,
And
whiles I hear the bells chime clear far down old Dublin bay.
They
nearer creep in soft sweep till in my dreams, asthore,
I see
gray walls of Dublin town and Kathleen at the door.
The tall
sweet lass, as years pass, grows ever near to me,
Though
oft I'm told the both are cold beside the Shannon lea,
She and
the lad; I'd fain be glad; from toil and sorrow free
By its
fair tide they gently bide the time that is to be
When I
shall see, from life free, in Heaven's bright
land, asthore,
The gray
old walls of Dublin town and Kathleen at the door.
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When
midnight chimes from out old Derry's walls
Pale
shapes along the time worn ramparts run,
Half
unseen soldiers work each rusty gun,
And
ghostly sentry unto sentry calls;
The wide
new town in crumbling ruin falls,
The grim
besiegers to their camp return,
In
pallid ring the hostile watch-fires burn,
And
sudden wraith of night attack appalls.
By the
cathedral walls the warrior dead
Hear
comrade's heels go clanking overhead
And rise
to join the fierce unequal fight,
At
Walker's call. All in the gray moonlight
The
Banshee wails along the river lands
And
beats the water with long misty hands.
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In
County Kerry minding cows
One day
in early spring
I
chanced to see a Leprechaun
Quite
busy hammering.
He sat
behind the meadow hedge,
A
mending one old shoe
As older
folk had always said
A
Leprechaun would do.
"Ho,
Leprechaun, ho, Leprechaun
See now
I have you fast,
I've
looked for you full many a day
And you
are mine at last.
Where do
you keep your money, sir!
That's
what I want to know,
Now tell
me where it's hidden, or
I will
not let you go."
The
Leprechaun looked by me straight,
Down to
the meadow's edge,
"Look
there!" said he, "your father's cows
Have
broken through the hedge."
But
never once I looked away,
For
everybody knows
Unless
you watch the Leprechaun;
Whisht!
Out of sight he goes.
"And
hark!" said he, "What is that noise,
That
sounds along the track?
The
Squire is galloping this way,
He's
here just at your back!"
But
never once I looked away
For
often I've been told,
That you
must watch the Leprechaun
If you
would get his gold.
"Ho,
Leprechaun, ho, Leprechaun,
Where
may it hidden be,
This
gold of yours? Now tell me, or
You
never shall go free.
I will
not take my eye from you,
That
same you need not fear,
For well
I know that if I do,
You'll
quickly disappear."
"Good
master, ho! good master, now
Come
down this way with me,
A mighty
field of boliauns
We both
can plainly see,
And
underneath this single bush
My gold
is placed with care,
Go fetch
a spade and dig, and you
Shall
surely find it there."
"Ho!
Leprechaun, ho! Leprechaun,
You
think to trick me well!
This
bush from any other bush
How
surely shall I tell?
A mile
this field of boliauns
Doth
reach each way, alack
How
shall I know this single bush
When
spade and I come back?"
"Good
Master, ho! Good Master, now
My
garter russet red,
I fasten
to this single bush."
The
Leprechaun then said,
"And
when to dig you shall come back,
You
still shall find it there,
I will
not touch that same again,
Good
Master, I declare."
A
Leprechaun to break his word,
No
living man yet knew,
And so I
set the rascal free,
And to
my cabin flew,
But when
with spade in willing hand
Back to
the place I sped,
The
whole broad field of boliauns
Was
blushing russet red.
With
garters here, and garters there,
Hung on
each bush and tree;
Sure all
the hose in fairyland
Down at
the heel must be:
And
hidden by the boliaun
The
fairy gold still lies,
Until
again a Leprechaun
I happen
to surprise.
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Last
night I watched a wee bit girl,
A sonsie
slip, with hair and eyes,
That
with the raven in its curl,
These
blue as lakes in Paradise.
Beneath
her chin the fiddle sang
From out
its heart a teasing song.
From
echoing halls of home it rang
While
memory danced with me along.
Oh, wild
and sad she made it croon.
The
storm wind skirled across the brae.
The
heart of sorrow through the tune
Keened
wild for them that's won away.
All
night along the lonely lea
I heard
the pleading plover call
And long
lost voices spoke to me
From out
the hills of Donegal.
Then
swift the wee white fingers fly;
The
blackbird whistled on the tree,
The
larks danced music in the sky,
Glenannan
waters called to me.
The
floor was clean, the lads were out,
The
lassies singing blithe and gay
While
swung the jolly reel about
In the
old home so far away.
Ah,
lassie, with the swift white hands
Ye weave
a charm no man may know
To take
my soul to other lands
In
voices of the long ago.
The
morrow's morn may bring its pain
But in
your music's lilt and fall
Last
night I was a lad again
Among
the hills of Donegal.
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