Day and Night Songs

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George Routledge & Company, 1854 - 61 pages
 

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Page v - Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren't go a-hunting For fear of little men; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together; Green jacket, red cap, And white owl's feather! Down along the rocky shore Some make their home, They live on crispy pancakes Of yellow tide-foam; Some in the reeds Of the black mountain-lake, With frogs for their watch-dogs, All night awake.
Page v - He's nigh lost his wits. With a bridge of white mist Columbkill he crosses. On his stately journeys From Slieveleague to Rosses; Or going up with music On cold starry nights, To sup with the Queen Of the gay Northern Lights. They stole little Bridget For seven years long; When she came down again Her friends were all gone.
Page v - Her nose is straight and handsome, her eyebrows lifted up, Her chin is very neat and pert, and smooth like a china cup, Her hair's the brag of Ireland, so weighty and so fine; It's rolling down upon her neck, and gathered in a twine. The dance o...
Page v - She linger'da moment — she might not stay. How long since I saw that fair pale face! Ah! Mother dear ! might I only place My head on...
Page v - I'll never wish it less. The proudest place would fit your face, and I am poor and low ; But blessings be about you, dear, wherever you may go...
Page v - Back! back! back! Rrr-run away!' O Thrush, be still! Or, at thy will, Seek some less sad interpreter than I. 'Air, air! blue air and white! Whither I flee, whither, O whither, O whither I flee!' (Thus the Lark hurried, mounting from the lea) 'Hills, countries, many waters glittering bright, Whither I see, whither I see! deeper, deeper, deeper, whither I see, see, see!' 'Gay Lark," I said, The song that's bred In happy nest may well to heaven make flight.
Page v - As dig them up in spite, He shall find their sharpest thorns In his bed at night. Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren't go a-hunting For fear of little men ; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together; Green jacket, red cap, And white owl's feather!
Page v - For ever, ever fled away! Draw him tideward down; but not in haste. Mouldering daylight lingers; Night with her cold fingers Sprinkles moonbeams on the dim sea-waste. Ever, ever fled away!
Page v - Of heirloom jewels, prized so much, Were many changed to chips and clods ; And even statues of the gods Crumbled beneath its touch. Then angrily the people cried : " The loss outweighs the profit far. Our goods suffice us as they are; We will not have them tried.
Page v - I'd hardly see the rest; Be what it may the time o' day, the place be where it will, Sweet looks o' Mary Donnelly, they bloom before me still.

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