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William Allingham - The Girl`s Lamentation
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With grief and mourning I sit to spin;
    My Love passed by, and he didn`t come in;
    He passes by me, both day and night,
    And carries off my poor heart`s delight.

    There is a tavern in yonder town,
    My Love goes there and he spends a crown;
    He takes a strange girl upon his knee,
    And never more gives a thought to me.

    Says he, `We`ll wed without loss of time,
    And sure our love`s but a little crime;`—
    My apron-string now it`s wearing short,
    And my Love he seeks other girls to court.

    O with him I`d go if I had my will,
    I`d follow him barefoot o`er rock and hill;
    I`d never once speak of all my grief
    If he`d give me a smile for my heart`s relief.

    In our wee garden the rose unfolds,
    With bachelor`s-buttons and marigolds;
    I`ll tie no posies for dance or fair,
    A willow-twig is for me to wear.

    For a maid again I can never be,
    Till the red rose blooms on the willow tree.
    Of such a trouble I`ve heard them tell,
    And now I know what it means full well.

    As through the long lonesome night I lie,
    I`d give the world if I might but cry;
    But I mus`n`t moan there or raise my voice,
    And the tears run down without any noise.

    And what, O what will my mother say?
    She`ll wish her daughter was in the clay.
    My father will curse me to my face;
    The neighbours will know of my black disgrace.

    My sister`s buried three years, come Lent;
    But sure we made far too much lament.
    Beside her grave they still say a prayer—
    I wish to God `twas myself was there!

    The Candlemas crosses hang near my bed;
    To look at them puts me much in dread,
    They mark the good time that`s gone and past:
    It`s like this year`s one will prove the last.

    The oldest cross it`s a dusty brown,
    But the winter winds didn`t shake it down;
    The newest cross keeps the colour bright;
    When the straw was reaping my heart was light.

    The reapers rose with the blink of morn,
    And gaily stook`d up the yellow corn;
    To call them home to the field I`d run,
    Through the blowing breeze and the summer sun.

    When the straw was weaving my heart was glad,
    For neither sin nor shame I had,
    In the barn where oat-chaff was flying round,
    And the thumping flails made a pleasant sound.

    Now summer or winter to me it`s one;
    But oh! for a day like the time that`s gone.
    I`d little care was it storm or shine,
    If I had but peace in this heart of mine.

    Oh! light and false is a young man`s kiss,
    And a foolish girl gives her soul for this.
    Oh! light and short is the young man`s blame,
    And a helpless girl has the grief and shame.

    To the river-bank once I thought to go,
    And cast myself in the stream below;
    I thought `twould carry us far out to sea,
    Where they`d never find my poor babe and me.

    Sweet Lord, forgive me that wicked mind!
    You know I used to be well-inclined.
    Oh, take compassion upon my state,
    Because my trouble is so very great.

    My head turns round with the spinning wheel,
    And a heavy cloud on my eyes I feel.
    But the worst of all is at my heart`s core;
    For my innocent days will come back no more.
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