The stile in the lane
There's a lane down by the river,
Where the cuckoos soonest call,
'Tis the loveliest place in Ireland
When the evening shadows fall;
But for fear of ghosts or fairies,
Faith! I dare not wander through,
Without someone to mind me,
Oh! colleens dear, could you?
There's a stile beside a meadow
In the middle of the lane,
Such an awkward, dear old stile it is,
I try to climb in vain,
Until someone helps me over
To a cosy seat for two;
I could linger there for ever,
Oh! girls dear, couldn't you?
There's a meadow deck'd with daisies,
Not a step beyond the stile,
Where the blithe song of the blackbird
Could the heart of care beguile;
But I never yet could listen,
Tho' he whistled all he knew,
For someone whisper'd all the time,
Now, colleens dear, could you?
There's a chapel clad in ivy,
Oh! as sweet as you could see,
And there, he says, next Sunday
I must promise his to be;
In the face of all the people
I will find it hard to do,
But I'll try my best to please him,
Oh! girls dear, wouldn't you?
Submitted by Melanie Trumbull
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
Text added to the website: 2017-05-07.
Last modified: 2017-05-07 11:17:04
Line count: 32
Word count: 194
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