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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 377 |
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Where I laid long ago, to my woe, my young one
year's bride. Then Ochone ! for relief from my grief into madness
I flew: Would to God ere that day in the clay I'd been
covered with you. |
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THE BLUE, BLUE SMOKE
O
H, many and many a time In the dim old days, When the chapel's distant chime Pealed the hour of evening praise, I've bowed my head in prayer;
Then shouldered scythe or bill, And traveled, free of care, To my home across the hill; Whilst the blue, blue smoke Of my cottage in the coom, Softly wreathing, Sweetly breathing, Waved my thousand welcomes home.
For oft and oft I've stood,
Delighted in the dew, Looking down across the wood,
Where it stole into my view — Sweet spirit of the sod,
Of our own Irish Earth, Going gently up to God
From the poor man's hearth. O the blue, blue smoke |
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