Stair na hÉireann 1 min · The Wind That Shakes The Barley (Robert Dwyer Joyce) I sat within a valley green, I sat me with my true love, My sad heart strove the two between, The old love and the new love, - The old for her, the new that made Me think on Ireland dearly, While soft the wind blew down the glade And shook the golden barley. Twas hard the woeful words to frame To break the ties that bound us Twas harder still to bear the shame Of foreign chains around us And so I said, The mountain glen Ill seek next morning early And join the brave United Men! While soft winds shook the barley. While sad I kissed away her tears, My fond arms round her flinging, The foemans shot burst on our ears, From out the wildwood ringing, - A bullet pierced my true loves side, In lifes young spring so early, And on my breast in blood she died While soft winds shook the barley! I bore her to the wildwood screen, And many a summer blossom I placed with branches thick and green Above her gore-staind bosom:- I wept and kissed her pale, pale cheek, Then rushed oer vale and far lea, My vengeance on the foe to wreak, While soft winds shook the barley! But blood for blood without remorse, Ive taen at Oulart Hollow And placed my true loves clay-cold corpse Where I full soon will follow; And round her grave I wander drear, Noon, night and morning early, With breaking heart wheneer I hear The wind that shakes the barley!
Posted on: Fri, 26 Sep 2014 21:32:38 +0000
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