Erin's Green Linnet

One fine summer morning as the day it was dawning
I wandered alone for to breath the fresh air,
In a green myrtle shade espied a fair maid
As she sat there aweeping and tearing her hair.

Said I, "My pretty fair one, why art thou mourning?
Is they true lover gone, will he never return?
These sad lamentations my heart have afflicted
I think you're a daughter of Erin go Bragh."

"Young man, she replied, if Erin's my mother
Dear youth I am mistaken or you are my brother,
Come mingle our tears and we'll comfort each other
And sigh for the wrongs of Old Erin go Bragh"

You ask me the cause of my disconsolation
My tongue is scarce able the same to relate,
For once I'd a linnet, the pride of the nation
By the fowler he's taken and sad is my fate."

Sweet were his notes as he sung in the bowers,
His lovely bright wings fluttered over the flowers,
But now he is gone to enjoy his sweet hours
And sigh for the wrongs of old Erin go Bragh"

"He sang in Athlone, it being then his station,
In order his notes might be heard o'er the nation,
His trial and afflictions he bore them with patience
And all for the love of old Erin go Bragh.."

"He sang in Kilkenny a tune that was pleasing
His notes were most charming, both lofty and shrill,
In the King's and Queen's counties he raised up a chorus
And sweetly he sang upon Tara's old hill."

"Through the plains of Kildare we marched off so glorious,
With our harmonious bands and our linnet before us,
To hear his sweet voice, so soft and melodious
As he sang notes of freedom to old Erin go Bragh."

"If he were but living, that hero undaunted,
In spite of Lord John he'd have liberty planted,
But now his sad loss we do sorely lament it,
Brave Daniel, the Chieftain of Erin go Bragh."

The Linnet is, of course, Daniel O'Connel.

Make your own free website on Tripod.com