THE SONG BOOK - full online book

350+ Song Lyrics With Sheet Music, Selected And Arranged By John Hullah.

Home Main Menu Singing & Playing Order & Order Info Support Search Voucher Codes

Share page  Visit Us On FB

Previous Contents Next
2 68
The Song Book
Come, bird of the evening, sweet thrush, void of sorrow, Come, greet her approach to thy flower-scented thorn, And teach her, fond warbler, thy lov'd notes to borrow, To banish her coldness and soften her scorn.
O  perch'd on thy green bough each lov'd note delighting, How blest, happy bird, could I change lots with thee! But alas! while fast fetter'd each prospect is blighting,
1  would rather than Ireland again I were free!
But adieu! though my hopes by thy coldness and scorning Fall faded like blossoms half blown on the tree, May love bless your eve, though it blighted my morning, I would rather than Ireland once more I were free!
Words (translated from the original Irish) by Macneill. Tune I would rather than Ireland. From Bunting's Music of Ireland.
Previous Contents Next