By the sweet bay of Dublin, while carelessly strolling
|
I sat myself down by a green myrtle shade
|
Reclined on the beach, as the wild waves were rolling
|
In sorrowful condoling, I saw a fair maid
|
|
Her robes changed to mourning, that once were so glorious
|
I stood in amazement to hear her sad wail
|
Her heartstrings burst forth with wild accents uproarious
|
Saying, "Where, where is my Blackbird of sweet Avondale?"
|
|
"In the fair counties Meath, Wexford, Cork, and Tipperary,
|
The rights of Old Ireland, my Blackbird did sing
|
Ah, but woe to the hour, with heart light and airy
|
Away from my arms, to Dublin took wing"
|
|
"The fowlers waylaid him in hopes to ensnare him
|
While I here in sorrow, his absence bewail
|
Oh, it grieves me to think that the walls of Kilmainham
|
Surround my dear Blackbird of sweet Avondale"
|
|
"Oh, Ireland, my country, awake from your slumbers
|
And give back my Blackbird, so dear unto me
|
And let everyone know, by the strength of your numbers
|
That we, as a nation, would wish to be free"
|
|
"The cold prison dungeons is no habitation
|
For one, to his country, was loyal and true
|
Then give him his freedom, without hesitation
|
And remember he fought hard for freedom and you"
|
|
"Oh, Heaven, give ear to my consultation
|
And strengthen the bold sons of Old Granuaile
|
And God grant that my country will soon be a nation
|
And bring back the Blackbird to sweet Avondale"
|
|
-----------------
|
The Blackbird Of Sweet Avondale
|
| Silly Wizard |