O Donal Oge, if you go across the sea, Bring myself with you and do not forget it; And you will have a sweetheart For fair days and market days And the daughter of the King of Greece Beside you at night. It was late last night The dog was speaking of you; The snipe was speaking of you In her deep marsh. It is you are the lonely bird through the woods; And that you may be without a mate Until you find me. You promised me, and you said a lie to me, That you would be before me where the sheep are flocked; I gave a whistle and three hundred cries to you, And I found nothing but a bleating lamb. You promised me a thing that was hard for you, A ship of gold under a silver mast; Twelve towns with a market in all of them And a fine white court by the side of the sea. You promised me a thing that is not possible -- That you would give me gloves of the skin of a fish; That you would give me shoes of the skin of a bird And a suit of the dearest silk in Ireland. O Donal Oge, it is I would be better for you Than a high, proud, spenthrift lady: I would mild the cow; I would bring help to you; And if you were hard pressed I would strike a blow for you. You have taken the east from me You have taken the west from me. You have taken what is before me And what is behind me; You have taken the moon You have taken the sun from me, And my fear is great That you have taken God from me.
- by Isabella Augusta, Lady Gregory, née Isabella Augusta Persse (1852 - 1932), appears in The Kiltartan Poetry Book, first published 1919 [an adaptation] [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
Researcher for this text: Michael P. Rosewall
This text was added to the website: 2011-10-22
Line count: 39
Word count: 295