A History of Ireland in Song |
There's Colleen fair as May for a year and a day I have sought by ev'ry way her herat to gain. Theres's no art of tongue or eye, fond youth with maidens try, But I've tried with ceaseless sighs, yet in vain. If to France or far-off Spain, she'd cross the wat'ry main, To see again the seas I'd brave. And if 'tis heaven's decree that mine she may not be, May the Son of Mary me in mercy save.
Oh! though blooming milk-white dove, to whom I've given true love Do not ever thus reprove my constancy. There are maidens, would be mine, with wealth in land or kine, If my heart would but incline to turn from thee. But a kiss with welcome bland, and a touch of thy fair hand, Are all that I demand would's thou not spurn. For if not mine dear girl, oh! my snowy-breasted pearl May I never from the fair with life return.
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Last modified Monday 18th September 2006
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