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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 491 |
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But the fox must sleep sometimes, the wild deer must
rest, And treachery prey on the blood of the best, And many a brave action of power and pride, And many a hard night on the mountain's bleak side, And a thousand great dangers and toils overpast, In the darkness of night he was taken at last. |
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Now, Shamus, look back on the beautiful moon, For the door of the prison must close on you soon; And take your last look at her dim lovely light, That falls on the mountain and valley this night; One look at the village, one look at the flood, And one at the sheltering, far-distant wood. Farewell to the forest, farewell to the hill, And farewell to the friends that will think of you still; Farewell to the hurlin', the pattern, and wake, An' farewell to the girl that would die for your sake. Well, twelve soldiers brought him to Maryboro' jail, And the turnkey received him, refusin' all bail; The fleet limbs were chained, and the strong hands-were bound, And he laid down his length on the cold prison
ground. And the dreams of his childhood came over him there, As gentle and soft as the sweet summer air; And happy remembrances crowding on ever, As fast the foam-flakes drift down the river, Bringing fresh to his heart merry days long gone by, Till the tears gathered heavy and thick in his eye. But trie tears didn't fall, for the pride of his heart Wouldn't suffer one drop down his pale cheek to start; And he sprang to his feet in the dark prison cave, |
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