She lived beside the Anner


She lived beside the Anner at the foot of Slievenamon
A gentle Irish peasant girl with wild eye’s like the dawn
Her lips were dewy rosebuds, her teeth were pearls rare
And a snow-drift ‘neath a beechen bough, her neck and nut brown hair

How pleasant ’twas to see her on a Sunday when the bell
Was filling with its mellow tones, lone wood and grassy dell
And when at eve, young maidens strayed, the river bank along
The widow’s brown haired daughter was the loveliest of the throng

Oh brave, brave Irish girls, we well may call you brave
Sure the least of all your perils is the stormy ocean wave
When you leave your quite valleys and cross the Atlantic foam
To hoard your hard-won earnings for the helpless one’s at home

Write a word to my own dear mother, say we’ll meet with God above
And tell my little brothers, I send them all my love
‘May Angels ever guard them’ is their dying sister’s prayer
And folded in the letter was a braid of nut brown hair

Ah, cold and well nigh callous, this weary heart has grown
For thy hapless fate, dear Ireland, and for sorrows of my own
Yet a tear, my eye will moisten when by the Anner side, I stray
For the lily of the mountain foot that withered far away


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