| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 457 |
||
|
Your lips red as poppies, your cheeks bright as morn ; And your bosom and neck white as blossoms of thorn.
The stars may shine down on the whole world at
night, But your eyes, Mary, dear! should give me all their
light. Let the poppies and blossoms be plucked by who will, If those dear lips and bosom be kept for me still.
Not more sportive and light is the young lambkin
seen, Than your foot in the dance on our own village green ; And my fond eye still wanders wherever you move 'Midst all the maids seeking for her that I love.
The winter is past, and the Shrovetide is nigh;
Dear Mary ! no longer be cruel or shy,
I've a home to receive you, a hand to sustain
And a heart that will love you while life shall remain. |
||
|
ST. PATRICK'S DAY
1
T
HE white and the orange, the blue and green, boys, We'll blend them together in concord to-night; The orange most sweet amid green leaves is seen, boys, The loveliest pansy is blue and white. The light of the day, As it glides away, |
||