| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 237 |
||
|
Fair land of Mist and Sunshine,
The distant exile thrills, In dream of home and kindred
To see thy holy hills. Should song of mine flow clearer •
Old scenes and skies of blue, Old hopes that crown life dearer,
I hold my trust made true. |
||
|
THE FALLIN' O' THE RAIN
G
OOD-BYE to County Carlow, 'tis the lonesome place to me, Sure every week is like a month, and every month like three. The mist is coming wet and cold, but now I won't
complain, I'm going home, and little reck the fallin' o' the rain.
'Twas foolishness that brought me here, I wonder at
it now ; Too proud was I to work the spade or follow up the
plow; But little work and gold galore won't heal the heart
o' pain And I'm off to old Kilkenny thro' the fallin' o' the
rain.
'Twas foolishness that brought me here, 'twas madness
made me stay, With not a hillside slopin' green to rest my eyes all
day, |
||