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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 319 |
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Your wife grows old with weeping, And your children one by one
Grow gray with nights of watching, Before your dance is done.
And it will chance some morning You will come home no more;
Your wife sees but a withered leaf In the wind about the door.
And your children will inherit
The unrest of the wind; They shall seek some face elusive,
And some land they never find.
When the wind is loud, they sighing Go with hearts unsatisfied,
For some joy beyond remembrance, . For some memory denied.
And all your children's children,
They cannot sleep or rest, When the wind is out in Erin
And the sun is in the West. |
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