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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 285 |
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Her brown hair rippled o'er her brow, but greatest
charm of all Was her modest blue eyes beaming 'neath her ould
plaid shawl.
I courteously saluted her—"God save you, miss,"
says I; "God save you kindly, sir," said she, and shyly
passed me by; Off went my heart along with her, a captive in her
thrall, Imprisoned in the corner of her ould plaid shawl.
Enchanted with her beauty rare, I gazed in pure delight,
Till round an angle of the road she vanished from my sight;
But ever since I sighing say, as I that scene recall,
" The grace of God about you and your ould plaid shawl."
I've heard of highway robbers that, with pistols and
with knives, Make trembling travelers yield them up their money
or their lives, But think of me that handed out my heart and head
and all To a simple little cailin in an ould plaid shawl!
Oh ! graceful the mantillas that the signorinas wear, And tasteful are the bonnets of Parisian ladies fair, But never cloak or hood or robe, in palace, bow'r, or hall, |
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