| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 459 |
||
|
If you love as a brother each child of the soil; I ask not your creed, If you'll stand in her need To the land of your birth in the hour of her dolors,
The foe of her foes, let them be who they may; Then, " Fusion of hearts, and confusion of colors ! " Be the Irishman's toast on St. Patrick's Day. |
||
|
THE FIRST CUCKOO IN SPRING
O
NE sweet evening in spring, as the daylight died, Mave sat in her bower by her father's side : (Cuckoo ! cuckoo!) So soft and clear, Sang the bonny cuckoo from a thicket near : (Cuckoo! cuckoo !) "Do listen, my dear, 'Tis the first cuckoo's note I have heard this year."
The maiden smiled archly, then sighed—" 'Tis long I've waited and watched for that sweet bird's song." (Cuckoo! cuckoo!) "Ere winter he'll roam With some belov'd mate to his distant home." (Cuckoo ! cuckoo !) " Ah ! would I might roam With that bonny cuckoo to his distant home."
The old man he frowned at the maid, and said, "What puts such wild thoughts into your foolish
head?" (Cuckoo ! cuckoo !) " No maid should desire To roam from her native land and sire." (Cuckoo ! cuckoo !) " I don't love a note That comes from that foreign bird's weary throat. |
||
|
|
||