I wish, I wish, I wish in vain,
I wish I had my heart again,
And vainly think I'd not complain,
Is go d-teidh tu, a mhurnin, slan!
Siubhail, siubhail, siubhail, a ruin! &c.
But now my love has gone to France,
To try his fortune to advance;
If he e'er come back, 'tis but a chance,
Is go d-teidh tu, a mhurnin, slan!
Siubhail, siubhail, siubhail, a ruin!
Siubhail go socair, agus siubhail go ciuin,
Siubhail go d-ti an doras agus culaigh liom,
Is go d-teidh tu, a mhurnin, slan!
FOOTNOTES:
[111] Dr. Sigerson renders the chorus in English verse, as follows:—
"Come, come, come, O Love!
Quickly come to me, softly move;
Come to the door, and away we'll flee,
And safe for aye may my darling be!"
[LOVE'S DESPAIR]
Dermot O'Curnan, born 1740.
I am desolate,
Bereft by bitter fate;
No cure beneath the skies can save me,
No cure on sea or strand,
Nor in any human hand—
But hers, this paining wound who gave me.