This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.

Title: Songs of the Glens of Antrim Author: Moira O'Neill Release Date: September 17, 2016 [EBook #53075] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

Songs of the Glens of Antrim

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SONGS OF THE GLENS OF ANTRIM

Songs of the Glens of Antrim

***

These Songs of the Glens of Antrim were written by a Glenswoman in the dialect of the Glens, and chiefly for the pleasure of other Glens-people.

Songs of the Glens of Antrim

By the courtesy of the Editors of 'Blackwood' and the 'Spectator' they are republished here.

THE SONG OF GLEN DUN CORRYMEELA MARRIAGE SEA WRACK A BROKEN SONG THE FAIRY LOUGH A SONG OF GLENANN "FORGETTIN'" DENNY'S DAUGHTER LOST "CUTTIN' RUSHES" "THE OULD LAD" THE RACHRAY MAN BIRDS JOHNEEN "BEAUTY'S A FLOWER" THE BOY FROM BALLYTEARIM I MIND THE DAY GRACE FOR LIGHT THE GRAND MATCH THE SAILOR MAN AT SEA "LOOKIN' BACK" THE NORTH-WEST--CANADA BACK TO IRELAND

Sure this is blessed Erin an' this the same glen, The gold is on the whin-bush, the wather sings again, The Fairy Thorn's in flower,--an' what ails my heart then? Flower o' the May, Flower o' the May, What about the May time, an' he far away!

Summer loves the green glen, the white bird loves the sea, An' the wind must kiss the heather top, an' the red bell hides a bee; As the bee is dear to the honey-flower, so one is dear to me. Flower o' the rose, Flower o' the rose, A thorn pricked me one day, but nobody knows.

The bracken up the braeside has rusted in the air, Three birches lean together, so silver limbed an' fair, Och! golden leaves are flyin' fast, but the scarlet roan is rare. Berry o' the roan, Berry o' the roan, The wind sighs among the trees, but I sigh alone.

I knit beside the turf fire, I spin upon the wheel, Winter nights for thinkin' long, round runs the reel.... But he never knew, he never knew that here for him I'd kneel. Sparkle o' the fire, Sparkle o' the fire, Mother Mary, keep my love, an' send me my desire!