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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 291 |
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Gone, my motion and my vigor, — Gone, the use of eye and ear;
At my feet lie friends and children, Powerless and corrupting here.
Woe is written on my visage In a nut my heart would lie —
Death's deliverance were welcome — Father, let the old man die. |
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MILD MABEL KELLY From the Irish ofT. O' Carolan.
W
HOEVER the youth who by Heaven's decree Has his happy right hand 'neath that bright
head of thine, 'Tis certain that he From all sorrow is free, Till the day of his death, if a life so divine Should not raise him in bliss above mortal degree. Mild Mabel Ni Kelly, bright coolun of curls !
All stately and pure as the swan on the lake. Her mouth of white teeth is a palace of pearls,
And the youth of the land are love-sick for her sake.
No strain of the sweetest e'er heard in the land
That she knows not to sing, in a voice so enchanting, That the cranes on the sand Fall asleep where they stand. Oh, for her blooms the rose, and the lily ne'er waiting To shed its mild lustre on bosom or hand. |
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