Explore "Songs of The Glens of Antrim" by Moira O´Neill on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Listen, oh my jewel, I would say, -- / Only wait to' I can get the word: / Sure I thought I had it sweet an' gay / Like the bravest song o' summer bird. / Faith! I knew it well an' very well / When this hour the rain begun to fall, / Now the sorra one o' me can tell / What about it was at all, at all.
Listen, oh my jewel, I was wrong, -- / Never, never lived a word so sad; / Not the heavy sea that drives along / Bears such weighty throuble as it had. / "Och anee!" wi' ne'er a voice to cry, / Like the weary cloud or drownin' moon / So it sank, or so was carried by: / Never told is all forgot so soon.