AN ISLAND FISHERMAN
Ochone! my thoughts are wild;
But little blame I say;
An ould man hungerin' for his child,
Fishin' the livelong day.
But little blame I say;
An ould man hungerin' for his child,
Fishin' the livelong day.
You will not run again
Laughin' to see me land.
O what was pain an' throuble then,
Holdin' your little hand?
Laughin' to see me land.
O what was pain an' throuble then,
Holdin' your little hand?
Or when your head let fall
Its soft curls on my breast?
Why do the childher grow at all
To love the stranger best?
Its soft curls on my breast?
Why do the childher grow at all
To love the stranger best?
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