Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/891

 SIR SAMUEL FERGUSON

My purse holds no red gold, no coin of the silver white ; No herds are mine to drive through the long twilight; But the pretty girl that would take me, all bare tho' I be and

lone, O, I'd take her with me kindly to the county Tyrone!

O my girl, I can see 'tis in trouble you are ; And O my girl, I see 'tis your people's reproach you bear' / am a girl in trouble for his sake with whom I fly, And, O, may no other maiden know such reproach as I f

721 The Fair Hills of Irelamd

FROM THE IRISH

A PLENTEOUS place is Ireland for hospitable cheer, /"V Uileacan dubh O^

Where the wholesome fruit is bursting from the yellow barley ear;

Uileacan dubh O '

There is honey in the trees where her misty vales expand, And her forest paths in summer are by falling waters fann'd, There is dew at high noontide there, and springs i' the yellow sand,

On the fair hills of holy Ireland.

Curl'd he is and ringleted, and plaited to the knee

Uileacan dubh O f Each captain who comes sailing across the Irish Sea;

And I will make my journey, if life and health but stand, Unto that pleasant country, that fresh and fragrant strand, And leave your boasted braveries, your wealth and high command,

For the fair hills of holy Ireland.

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