| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
176 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
||
|
MRS. JULIA CRAWFORD (i8oo?-i885?)
DERMOT ASTORE
O
H! Dermot Astore ! between waking and sleeping I heard thy dear voice, and I wept to its lay; Every pulse of my heart the sweet measure was keeping Till Killarney's wild echoes had borne it away. Oh ! tell me, my own love, is this our last meeting ? Shall we wander no more in Killarney's green bow'rs, To watch the bright sun o'er the dim hills retreating, And the wild stag at rest in his bed of spring flow'rs?
Oh ! Dermot Astore, etc.
Oh 1 Dermot Astore 1 how this fond heart would flutter, When I met thee by night in the shady boreen, And heard thine own voice in a soft whisper utter Those words of endearment, " Mavourneen colleen ! " I know we must part, but oh ! say not forever,
That it may be for years adds enough to my pain ; But I'll cling to the hope, that though now we must sever, In some blessed hour I shall meet thee again. |
||
|
|
||
|
Oh ! Dermot Astore, etc. |
||