But give me to come in the teeth of gray weather,
Oh, give me to come with the wind blowing free,
And love’s arms to clasp in their welcoming tether
A wanderer worn with the toils of the sea!
For ’t is sorrow to go in the azure blue weather,
’T is sorrow to go with a soft breeze a-lee,
[p 65]
]Leaving love’s yearning arms where one fain would find tether,
Watching dear Donegal sinking down in the sea!
[p 66]
]AN IRISH SONG
Over me lifts the peat-reek