| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
378 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
||
|
Of my cottage in the coom,
Softly wreathing,
Sweetly breathing My thousand welcomes home. |
||
|
But I hurried swiftly on,
When Herself from the door Came swimming like a swan Beside the Shannon shore; And after her in haste,
On pretty, pattering feet, Our rosy cherubs raced Their daddy dear to meet; Whilst the blue, blue smoke Of my cottage in the coom, Softly wreathing, Sweetly breathing, Waved my thousand welcomes home.
But the times are sorely changed
Since those dim old days, And far, far I've ranged
From those dear old ways; And my colleen's golden hair
To silver all has grown, And our little cherub pair Have cherubs of their own ; And the black, black smoke, Like a heavy funeral plume, Darkly wreathing, Fearful breathing, Crowns the city with its gloom. |
||