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448 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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But harder still to bear the shame
Of foreign chains around us. And so I said, " The mountain glen
I'll seek at morning early, And join the brave United Men,"
While soft winds shook the barley.
While sad I kissed away her tears,
My fond arms around her flinging, The foeman's shot burst on our ears,
From out the wildwood ringing; The bullet pierced my true love's side,
In life's young spring so early, And on my breast in blood she died,
When soft winds shook the barley.
But blood for blood without remorse
I've ta'en at Oulart Hollow; I've placed my true love's clay-cold corse
Where I full soon will follow; And round her grave I wander drear,
Noon, night, and morning early, With breaking heart where'er I hear
The wind that shakes the barley ! |
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