  From the Irish My grief on the sea, How the waves of it roll! For they heave between me And the love of my soul! Abandoned, forsaken, To grief and to care, Will the sea ever waken Relief from despair? My grief and my trouble In the province of Leinster, Or County of Clare? Were I and my darling— O, heart-bitter wound!— On board of the ship For America bound. On a green bed of rushes All last night I lay, And I flung it abroad With the heat of the day. And my love came behind me— He came from the south; His breast to my bosom, His mouth to my mouth. Douglas Hyde |
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