They saw and they heard, but they feared not—they KNEW the milkmaid.
Abundant her tresses, bright golden their hue;
And soft as a dove’s was her eye in its blue;
Elastic her footstep, and lightsome and free
As a fawn’s when in gladness it skips o’er the lea—
Of the old and the young the delight, and the pride of Glentallon was she.
In secret she met with the Hunter in Green,
Beside the lone fountain of Coirre-na-Sheen;
A gallant more gay ne’er did maiden behold,
His manner so gentle, his bearing so bold;