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398 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF
"Else they will come and smash the walls upon our
moldering bones, And screaming mountain birds will tear our flesh from
out the stones.
" And, daughter, haste to do thy work, so thou mayest
quickly come, And take with us our grateful rest, and share our
peaceful home." |
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The sun behind the distant hills far-sinking down to
sleep; A maiden on the lonesome moor, digging a grave so
deep;
The moon above the craggy reek, silvering moor and
wave, And the pale corpse of a maiden young stretched on a
new-made grave.
THE MAID OF CLOGHROE1
A
S I roved out, at Faha, one morning, Where Adrum's tall groves were in view — When Sol's lucid beams were adorning, And the meadows were spangled with dew — Reflecting, in deep contemplation,
On the state of my country kept low, I perceived a fair juvenile female On the side of the hill of Cloghroe.
i Air—" Cailin deas cruitki-na-mbo," " The Pretty Girl Milk ing the Cow." |
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