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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 141 |
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(There's a gray fog over Dublin of the curses, And no wind comes to break its stillness deep:
And a Coiinaughtman lies on the road to Connaught And Mauryeen will not kiss him from his sleep— Ululu !) |
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THE KING OF IRELAND'S SON
N
OW all away to Tir na n'Og are many roads that'run, But he has ta'en the longest lane, the King of Ireland's son.
There's roads of hate, and roads of love, and many a
middle way,-And castles keep the valleys deep where happy lovers
stray —
Where.Aongus goes there's many a rose burns red mid shadows dun,
No rose there is will draw his kiss, the King of Ireland's son.
And yonder, where the sun is high, Love laughs amid
the hay, But' smile and sigh have passed him by, and never
make delay.
And here (and O ! the sun is low !) they're glad for
harvest won, But naught he cares for wheat or tares, the King of
Ireland's son 1 |
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