Of the floss of the moon in the dusk watches won,
And the lake is a-shimmer below.
There ’s a garden that ’s fair, be it day, be it night,
A garden in Kerry I know,
And never an orient dream of delight
Can match with this garden so sweet to my sight,
For here is heart’s home to a wandering wight,—
It calls me wherever I go!
[p 55]
]DOWN IN KERRY
Down in Kerry maids are merry,