I try to knead and spin, but my life is low the while,
Oh, I long to be alone and walk abroad a mile!
Yet if I walk alone, and think of naught at all,
Why from me that's young should the wild tears fall?

The shower-stricken earth, the earth-colour'd streams,
They breathe on me awake and moan to me in dreams;
And yonder ivy fondling the broke castle wall,
It pulls upon my heart till the wild tears fall.

The cabin door looks down a furze-lighted hill,
And far as Leighlin Cross the fields are green and still;
But once I hear the blackbird in Leighlin hedges call,
The foolishness is on me and the wild tears fall.