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The Song Book |
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My charmer, let us haste away,
To Truigha's woods our footsteps bend, Where streams through water-cresses play,
And Uchai's lovely plains extend. There holly berries glowing red,
With nuts and apples sweet abound; Green rushes there shall strew our bed,
And warblers chant their lov'd notes round.
Words (translated from the original Irish) by Miss Balfour. Tune The green PVoods of Truigha. From Bunting's Music of Ireland. |
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CCXXI BRANCH OF THE SWEET AND EARLY ROSE |
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Who, in the dewy evening walk, Shall pluck thee from the tender stalk ? Whose temples blushing shalt thou twine, And who inhale thy breath divine?
Words (translated from the original Irish) by Dr. Drennan. Tune Thou Flower of firgins. From Bunting's Music of Ireland. |
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