148. Maire My Girl

OVER the dim blue hills

Strays a wild river,

Over the dim blue hills

Rests my heart ever.

Dearer and brighter than

Jewels and pearl,

Dwells she in beauty there,

Maire my girl.

Down upon Claris heath

Shines the soft berry,

On the brown harvest tree

Droops the red cherry.

Sweeter thy honey lips,

Softer the curl

Straying adown thy cheeks,

Maire my girl.

’Twas on an April eve

That I first met her;

Many an eve shall pass

Ere I forget her.

Since my young heart has been

Wrapped in a whirl,

Thinking and dreaming of

Maire my girl.

She is too kind and fond

Ever to grieve me,

She has too pure a heart

E’er to deceive me.

Was I Tyrconnell’s chief

Or Desmond’s earl,

Life would be dark, wanting

Maire my girl.

Over the dim blue hills

Strays a wild river,

Over the dim blue hills

Rests my heart ever;

Dearer and brighter than

Jewels or pearl,

Dwells she in beauty there,

Maire my girl.