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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 45 |
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As taking in mind and in feature,
How many will sigh for her sake ! I wonder—the sweet little creature —
What sort of a wife she would make.
WISHING
R
ING-TING ! I wish I were a Primrose A bright yellow Primrose blowing in the Spring ! The stooping boughs above me, The wandering bee to love me, The fern and moss to keep across, And the Elm-tree for our king !
Nay—nay ! I wish I were an Elm-tree, A great lofty Elm-tree, with green leaves gay 1 The wind would set them dancing, The sun and moonshine glance in, The Birds would house among the boughs, And sweetly sing !
O—no ! I wish I were a Robin, A Robin or a little Wren, everywhere to go j Through forest, field or garden, And ask no leave or pardon, Till winter comes with icy thumbs To ruffle up our wing.
Well—tell! Where should I fly to, Where go to sleep in the dark wood or dell ? Before a day was over, Home comes the rover, For Mother's kiss—sweeter this Than any other thing ! |
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