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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 425 |
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In pain and trouble yet I will struggle,
Though sadly hobbled by my stupid brain,
Yet backed by Nature I can tell each feature Of this lovely creature called the Star of Slane.
Her eyes it's true are an azure blue,
And her cheeks the hue of the crimson rose; Her hair behold it does shine like gold,
And is finely rolled and so nicely grows; Her skin is white as the snow by night,
Straight and upright is her supple frame; The chaste Diana, or fair Susanna',
Are eclipsed in grandeur by the Star of Slane.
Her name to mention it might cause contention,
And it's my intention for to breed no strife; For me to woo her I am but poor,
I'm deadly sure she won't be my wife; In silent anguish I here must languish
Till time does banish all my love-sick pain, And my humble station I must bear with patience,
Since great exaltation suits the Star of Slane.
TRUST TO LUCK1
T
RUST to luck, trust to luck, stare fate in the face, Sure the heart must be aisy when it's in the right place: Let the world wag away, let your friends turn to foes,
1 This has for years been a favorite with the street singers and the people, and its refrain has been sung by more than one notable criminal before his execution, as a sort of Nunc dimittis. |
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