THE OLD SONG
When I was a young lad of happy sixteen
There came to my window the Cushla-mochree,
And the song that she sang was the song of the wind,
And the song that she sang was the song of the sea.
“And will you come with me, a vie and a stor?
And will you come with me, alanna?” she cried,
“O, my father will rage and my mother will mourn,
If I take to the mountains to march by your side.”
“O, your father must rage and your mother must sigh,
But I bid you follow and I am your queen.”
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